


The Haunting of Pondicherry Lodge

by MrsMCrieff



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Halloween at 221B - A Sherlolly Celebration, Haunted Houses, Haunting, Inspired by Scooby Doo, Sherlolly - Freeform, mollock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:56:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 29,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27303034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsMCrieff/pseuds/MrsMCrieff
Summary: It's coming up to Halloween and Sherlock has a spooky case to investigate. He's not helped by his friends who are seeing it as a holiday but will they get more than they bargained for?
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper
Comments: 281
Kudos: 228





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey you guys, happy Halloween. I can’t believe I’ve actually managed to post this story...albeit we’re starting it at Halloween when it should be finishing then. I was beginning to think I’d be better off leaving it til next year...or stripping out references to Halloween and just post it at any old time. But as you’re getting chapter 1 on Halloween itself I’m counting it as a Halloween fic (even if you’ll finish it nearer Christmas).
> 
> Anyway I hope you guys are good, we had a bit of bad news here in that my mother in law died yesterday. Not Covid thankfully but it’s been sad none the less as she was a lovely, kind woman (who also liked my fics would you believe). I hope your week has been better xx

It all started about a week before Halloween. Sherlock had just finished his latest case, a strange one that John was insisting calling the case of the solitary cyclist. As ever Sherlock rolled his eyes...it in no way described the mercenary events that had taken place over the last few weeks.

He’d dumped his bags in his room and his laundry in the basket and now he was sat in his front room and frowning to himself. Normally by now Mrs Hudson would have brought him some tea and, if she was in a good mood, some of her home made biscuits. Instead there was nothing, no noise, no movement in her flat. He huffed. Whilst he often complained about her bustling about it was also convenient to have her there. He liked to recount the case and how he’d solved it. It helped him order his thoughts and his skull just wasn’t the same...even if it didn’t make stupid comments.

He knew she was home so where was she? For a split second the fact that she was alone downstairs and in her seventies passed through his mind and even though he was sure that she was fine and healthy he found himself standing and moving to his door never the less. He wasn’t “checking on her” per se so much as raiding her flat for food. He nodded his head to himself as he made his way downstairs, satisfied with the reason he’d given himself.

As he reached her door and placed his hand on the handle he called out her name to give her fair warning that he was entering, then he made his way through the small vestibule and into her front room and that was where he found her. She was sitting looking slightly upset, holding her mobile phone almost forgotten in her hand. As he came in she looked up at him and her face brightened.

‘Oh Sherlock, you’re back. I thought you were still off with John on your case.’

‘All finished. Quite an unusual one...I could tell you about it if you wanted to make a pot of tea...’

His voice trailed off as he realised she wasn’t really listening and he took a breath. Emotions really weren’t his area but it looked as if he was going to have to step up and make an effort. He briefly wondered if he shouldn’t just call John instead.

He gently sat down next to her, his eyes quickly taking in as much information as possible.

She’d been baking, he could smell the batter, see the traces of flour on her fingers where she’d hastily wiped them. So, she’d been interrupted by a call; that much was simple given the phone still in her hand. She had expected the call to take some time hence her coming into the front room and sitting herself down in her favourite spot...so friend or relative...and given her current state she was upset by something they’d told her. She wasn’t devastated though, so not a death...no, she was confused...puzzling something out...maybe this was his area then.

He quickly ran through her friends and relatives but there was only one that stood out that might cause her this much angst.

‘Your sister called...she’s in trouble...is it anything I can help with?’

At this she finally, fully, looked him in the eye. Even though she’d acknowledged him earlier it was like she was seeing him for the first time.

‘Sherlock...I...I’m really not sure? It is definitely a problem but you’ll probably laugh...it’s just...it’s silly...’

‘Listen, how about I make us that pot of tea and you can tell me all about it. I’ll judge whether it’s silly or not...yes?’

She nodded her head and he stood and made his way through to her cosy kitchen. As he waited for the kettle to boil he set up a tray with the teapot, milk, sugar and cups and, after hunting in the cupboards, some shop bought biscuits. Then he couldn’t resist dipping his finger into the batter in the bowl on the side and licking the sweet mixture off with his tongue. It reminded him of being in the kitchen with his mum when he was younger, waiting eagerly for her to finish putting the biscuits out ready for baking so he could scrape out the remains in the bowl...often fighting over it with Mycroft and more often than not losing out to him given how much older his brother was. He chuckled to himself, Mycroft never had lost that sweet tooth.

When he took the tray back through into the front room Mrs Hudson was looking a bit more like her normal self. She’d put the phone down and busied herself tidying up some magazines and folding up a throw that she sometimes used in the evenings if she got cold.

‘I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me just then. It’s just it’s not like Janet to get herself worked up and she sounded so upset...put it over here and you sit down...you’ve only just got back and I should be looking after you not the other way around...though I’m not your housekeeper.’

They both smiled at each other at that well-worn joke but Sherlock sat in the armchair and waited as she poured them both a cuppa, slotting a couple of the biscuits onto his saucer before she passed his over to him, then she sat herself back down on the settee.

‘So, come on. What did Janet tell you?’

‘I can hardly believe it...it’s not like her at all...’

Sherlock sighed. ‘Just spit it out.’

‘Well, it’s her house, you know, the one in the country that she bought last year; it’s haunted.’

There was a pause of about three seconds and then Sherlock snorted with laughter. ‘Haunted?’

Mrs Hudson sat up straighter and sniffed. ‘See, I told you you’d laugh, but you haven’t met my Janet. She’s one of the most down to earth people I know and yet she’s left the house. She’s vowing never to step foot in it again. To just sell up. She loves that house, even though she’s not been there that long. She had so many plans for it; I’ve stayed there myself twice, and then this happens.’

‘So, what exactly has happened?’

‘Well, there have always been a few odd things...items disappearing and then turning back up in different places, footsteps that couldn’t be accounted for, but nothing overt, nothing frightening. But apparently over the last month it’s all changed. There have been loud bangs and screams at night, furniture tipping over and she says it’s heavy stuff, cabinets and chairs. One day last week she went into one of the bedrooms and there was blood streaming down one of the walls, took her hours to clean it all up, she had to repaint. The final straw was last night when a carving knife flew across the bedroom and embedded itself in the headboard close to where she was lying. She says she won’t stay. She doesn’t feel safe. Anyway, she gone to stay at her sons in Scotland and she’s determined to put the house on the market.’

She fell silent as she took a sip of her tea and Sherlock thought through everything she’d said and he nodded his head. He didn’t believe in ghosts, so there was more going on here than Mrs Hudson knew.

‘Call her back, tell her I’ll go down and stay over at the house for a few days. I’d like to see what’s actually taking place first hand. He thought through his plans for the week...‘I’ll be there on Friday, no doubt with John.’

Martha smiled and nodded her head. ‘Oh thank you Sherlock, I’ll tell her straight away. Maybe we could make a weekend of it? I haven’t been out of London for a while and I do love it down there.’

Sherlock looked at her slightly horrified. ‘It’s a case, not a holiday.’

His landlady stood up and rolled her eyes. ‘Oh don’t be like that; it can be both can’t it? I wonder if Molly would like to come as well? She’s been looking very tired recently. They’ve been working her too hard and I know she didn’t go away this year because of all the extra work at the hospital over that virus.’

Sherlock shook his head knowing it would be difficult to stop her now she had this idea in her head. ‘I suppose. Just text me the address so I can do some research and let your sister know the plan.’ Then, after nicking a couple more biscuits, he made his way back upstairs.

A few days later Sherlock was stood with his landlady on the platform at Waterloo station wondering just how on earth his case had turned into an outing for such a motley band of people. Molly had shared a cab with them but John had turned up separately with some woman called Sarah whom Sherlock vaguely recognised as being an ex of his. It was obviously a relationship doomed to failure but he knew that John had been lonely in the last year since Mary had died and he didn’t begrudge him some human comfort if that was what he needed. What did surprise him was that they’d turned up with Lestrade of all people. Apparently he too needed a “break”. Sherlock just sighed and followed them all onto the train.

He found himself sitting next to Greg and opposite Molly and Mrs Hudson. His leg brushed against Molly’s and he found he was smiling to himself as he saw her blush and shift away. It reminded him, as if he needed reminding, of her feelings for him. And what of his feelings for her? Well, that was the million dollar question. Ever since his sister had forced them into declaring their feelings Sherlock had been trying not to think about it. He knew that Molly thought he hadn’t meant what he had said but it was only in that moment...when he had first said those words to her...that he had really understood the depth and endless scope of his feelings for his pathologist. It had been a revelation, one that had him saying those words to her once more, this time with his feelings on show. She normally saw him so well, how had she not that time?

‘So Sherlock, Mrs Hudson tells me we’re off to a haunted house. You surely don’t believe that?’

He settled back in his chair as the train started to move away from the platform and he smiled at her and shrugged.

‘It’s too early to tell. I have to admit that I am very skeptical about the idea of ghosts but there is certainly plenty of so called “evidence” out there. Let’s just say though that whilst I’m keeping an open mind I intend to keep my feet on the ground. The world is big enough for us. No ghosts need apply.’

She smiled at him and he felt his heart actually swell a little in his chest...he pondered the actual hormonal changes that must have happened in order to cause such a physical reaction...

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

Molly could almost see the moment that she lost Sherlock to his own mind and she sighed as she watched him for a few seconds. His eyes seemed to unfocus and she knew if she spoke he would likely not even notice. He was looking rather delectable today though. He had a new dark grey suit paired with a pristine white shirt and she found herself biting her lip as she imagined what she could do to him to get him out of that suit. Luckily she was distracted by Greg and Mrs Hudson before Sherlock could catch her blatantly staring at him and fantasising; they were discussing rooms.

‘The house has four usable bedrooms, the others are in a bit of disrepair and closed up. It’s an old Manor House you see; Janet saw it on one of her caravan holidays and fell in love with it. She was planning to do it up as a bit of a B&B but she hasn’t got very far and now this has all happened...’

She frowned and shook her head and Lestrade leant forward. ‘Don’t you worry, we’ll get to the bottom of all this and we’ll have a bit of fun to boot. Now who’s sharing with who?’

They were all a bit surprised by Sherlock who suddenly interrupted. ‘I’m taking the master bedroom and intend to have it to myself. From what you’ve told me most of the “supernatural” activity has taken place in that room so that’s where I need to be.’

Molly giggled as she saw Lestrade roll his eyes. 

The DCI went on. ‘Fine, you get the master bedroom. I’m assuming John and umm...’

‘Sarah.’ Molly whispered. They’d both been introduced to the woman by John but it seemed she hadn’t made a huge impression on Greg.

‘Yes...so John and Sarah will be sharing?’

He looked over at them and John smirked back from their position across the aisle. ‘Too damn right we will.’

‘OK, so that’s two bedrooms taken...what’s left?’

They looked to Mrs Hudson. 

‘Well there’s a twin and a small single...’

Greg nodded and looked at Molly. ‘You OK with sharing with Mrs H? I’m assuming she’d rather be in with you than me.’

Molly chuckled again. ‘Yes, that’s fine by me; you get the single then. Oh I can’t wait to see the place. How much longer?’

It was just under an hour later that they were dropped off by the village’s sole taxi in front of a rambling old Manor House with the name of Pondicherry Lodge painted onto a wooden sign on the low wall by the gate.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, are you all as gripped as I am watching the US elections from afar. I was sure we'd know the results by now...but no, they're still counting. Hope my American readers have managed to get some sleep in amongst all the happenings.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for all the comments. I'm so glad you're enjoying it so far. Since not a lot happened in chapter 1 I thought I ought to get on and post another chapter a bit quicker than normal.

It was just after 4pm when they arrived and given the time of year it was well into dusk. The dark shadows stretching out around the house were just made all the more eerie by the presence of a thin layer of fog which seemed to drift in patches around the property.

Molly stood taking in the sight and felt a flicker of both fear and excitement bubbling up inside her and she couldn't help but grin at the others. 'Wow, we couldn't have picked a better place for Halloween if we'd tried.'

Her words seemed to break the spell on the party and they laughed and agreed as they picked up their weekend bags and started to make their way down the drive.

Molly was aware of Sherlock lagging behind saying something to the cab driver and passing him some money and she hung back to wait for him.

She took another look at the surrounding area. They were about a mile out from the village on a road that she suspected used to be a lot more busy and important than it seemed now...maybe a bypass had been put in to divert the traffic. The house was obviously hundreds of years old and although Molly wasn't that up on architecture it looked almost Tudor in design. The small, latticed windows were all dark showing it's currently unoccupied state and she felt that although it felt spooky now it was probably lovely in summer; sitting in the beautiful unspoilt countryside with a wood rising up behind it. She shivered a little as she looked up at the trees. In this light they just looked ominous and dangerous and she made an instinctive decision not to go anywhere near them.

Sherlock had caught up with her by now and he gave her his familiar smile and the two of them walked on to the house in companionable silence for a moment.

It was Molly who broke it. 'So, given you're on a case, what's the first thing on your agenda?'

His smile widened as he held the front door open for her. 'I think I need to explore the house; care to join me? I'm not sure John is going to be of much use in this investigation given the distraction he's brought with him. I thought he'd be bringing Rosie.'

He sounded distinctly aggrieved and Molly giggled at how disgruntled he looked. 'Rosie is with his sister. He says it's because he didn't want to bring her on a case given, in his words "any case with you could turn serious" but I think it was definitely more to do with his new girlfriend. She seems nice.'

Sherlock narrowed his eyes. 'Hmm...it won't last. It didn't the first time and it won't this time. She's just a glorified...what is it they call it...friend with benefits?'

Molly hadn't realised John had dated her before so it came as a bit of a surprise but she suspected that Sherlock was probably right if that was the case...going back over old ground wasn't something which tended to work. She'd tried that with Tom just a few months back but all the same old problems had arisen after the first few weeks and they'd split up amicably enough soon after. Strangely that had been the reason for her bad mood when Sherlock had made that forced phone call all those months ago. She sighed as she remembered just how satisfying it had been to hear him say those words even if he hadn't meant them but she quickly pulled herself together; she didn't want him asking her what she was thinking.

'Anyway, exploring the house sounds like fun. It seems very old.'

'It is. Parts of it were built as early as the 16th century though there have been some later additions. Only parts of it are being lived in though, the rest was due to be renovated. Shall we dump our bags and get started?'

Molly nodded. 'OK. I'll meet you back here in five minutes.'

She followed the vague instructions that Mrs Hudson had given her as to their shared bedroom and found it quite easily. The room was on the ground floor at the back with windows looking over the garden edged by a dark stone wall and then on to the trees beyond. The older woman had already taken the left hand bed and so Molly put her things on the other twin and after shedding her coat she went in search of a bathroom so she could freshen up.

As she left she could hear laughter and she followed it through to a large kitchen complete with a long, farmhouse table and an old fashioned range. Greg was trying to light the fire in it with Mrs Hudson vocally overseeing but most of the smoke seemed to be coming into the kitchen rather than out through the flue. She laughed at their efforts but appreciated them getting some heat into the house. She certainly hadn't yet felt the need to remove her jumper or her thick socks and boots.

Once the fire was going, Mrs Hudson started to look through the cupboards shaking her head. 'I knew I should have checked the food situation with Janet, she's so scatty, there's barely anything here. Whatever are we going to do for food tonight?'

Molly jumped as Sherlock spoke from directly behind her. She hadn't heard him come in at all which was amazing given that every door, stair and floorboard in this old house seemed to creak.

'No need to worry. I told the cab driver to book us a table in the village pub for 7.30pm. He's coming back for us at 7.15.'

Mrs Hudson looked around in surprise. 'Oh...that was very thoughtful of you Sherlock. Thank you.'

He chuckled. 'I wasn't thinking of your stomachs...though John does have a tendency to complain if he isn't regularly fed...I want to find out what the locals know about the house. Are you ready to explore Molly...sure you've got enough items of clothing on? I packed mine to wear later.'

Molly huffed and punched him on his arm. 'Very funny. It's freezing in here. I won't be removing any clothing until the temperature is up to eighty degrees at least.'

Sherlock smirked. 'Good to know. Better keep that fire fed Gavin and maybe light the one in the sitting room as well...we need to get Molly warm.'

Molly narrowed her eyes as she looked at him not quite sure what he was inferring but he just smirked in response and gestured towards the door. 'Shall we go then? I suggest we start with the ground floor and actively avoid John's room when we go upstairs. I don't think I need to put my detective hat on to deduce what him and Sarah are getting up to.'

He grimaced and Molly laughed out loud as they made their way through the house from the more modern side with the kitchen and sitting room, with its large and currently unlit fireplace, to the older and more uninhabited side.

It wasn't that the older part was unfit to live in it as such it was just very dated with wallpaper that was starting to separate from the wall and hang down in places. Some rooms had some old furniture, a sagging sofa, an ornate Victorian bookcase. The dining room was the largest room aside from the sitting room but with no actual dining table; Molly figured they be using the smaller, cosier table in the kitchen. That room however gave her the greatest sense of the age of the house with its large stone fireplace which dominated the end of the room.

As Sherlock paced the perimeter of the room, his hand trailing across the wooden panelling, Molly made her way over to the fireplace. It was almost big enough for her to stand inside it but when she peered up she couldn't see any daylight through the chimney. Either all the daylight was now gone or the chimney was blocked...she rather suspected it was the latter.

'This room is amazing. I wonder just how many banquets have been held here over the century?'

'Don't romanticise Molly, we're here to investigate.'

She turned to face him and raised an eyebrow. 'OK, so what exactly am I looking for because you haven't said?'

'That's because I thought it was obvious. We're checking for ways into the property, any secret rooms or passages. A house this old must have some and whoever has been plaguing Mrs Hudson's sister is obviously aware of them. Whilst I haven't found any access points yet they must be there...the size of the rooms so far is inconsistent with the size of the house; there are gaps.'

'Oh!' Molly looked around suddenly feeling much more curious as well as excited. She'd heard of houses having secret passageways but other than tours of stately homes in her youth she'd never actually stayed in one.

As Sherlock tapped along the wood Molly tried pushing on some of the stone decorations around the fireplace but she was disappointed when nothing happened.

There was another smaller room which was empty and then a box room that seemed to be filled with all sorts of junk that had been built up over the last few decades. Molly could have spent hours in there looking through the boxes but Sherlock didn't have much interest in it and so she vowed to come back another time over the weekend.

The rest of the downstairs was disappointing apart from a locked doorway which Sherlock felt would go down to a cellar of some kind. He tried to pick the lock but it was too old and he determined to ask Mrs Hudson about a key.

As they made their way upstairs Molly was mortified when she realised there were faint but very recognisable sounds coming from one of the bedrooms to the right of the staircase.

She gave a sideways glance to Sherlock who did the same to her and they both turned away as they burst out laughing.

'I say we go left and I'm assuming you're in agreement.'

Molly nodded and stifled her laughter. 'Absolutely.'

Once again they were making their way through to the older part of the house and into bedrooms which smelt musty and unused. They opened up ancient wardrobes and chests and Molly was fascinated to find a few old items of clothing, most of them moth ridden and stiff with age but there were a couple of ball gowns in protective coverings that looked as if they went back to the turn of the century. She let out a sigh as she let her fingers run over some of the intricately sewn on beads and she tried to imagine herself wearing them and making her way down the stairs to meet her beau at the bottom for an evening of dancing. It was of no surprise to her that in her imagination it was Sherlock waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs.

'Dreaming of going to a ball Molly?'

Once again he made her jump with how close he was. She turned her head and nodded. 'I suppose I am. I've never been to the kind of event where I'd have to wear a dress like this. It would be nice to do it just once. I don't suppose that's your cup of tea though.'

He took another step closer and reached past her to feel the texture of the dress and he was so close that Molly could smell his expensive cologne. If she leant back even just a couple of inches her back would rest against his chest...it was too tempting.

'Well, that's where you would be wrong Molly. I love to dance; I just never get much of a chance. Maybe we could go dancing together some day?'

Molly's heart stuttered in her chest at his suggestion. She was in no doubt that it wouldn't be a date but she loved the idea all the same.

'I...I mean yes, that would be lovely...I'd love to.'

He nodded his head and stepped away, his eyes already casting around the rest of the room.

'Great, that's a date then. I'll look something up when we get back to London.'

As he walked away Molly couldn't stop the wide grin that spread across her face. She had a date with Sherlock. Ok, it wasn't a date date but still...she couldn't wait.

There were four unusable bedrooms on top of the three upstairs that were in use, as well as two bathrooms but They yielded nothing else of interest. They made their way back towards the lived in part of the house and she was very relieved to hear that all was quiet as they got nearer to John's room. Sherlock made to go back down the stairs but Molly stopped him as she blurted out. 'What about your room? Can I see it?'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it girl, get yourself into his bedroom...who knows! OK it might be a bit early for any shenanigans but we can dream can't we ;) xx


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, the news is in and a new president has been announced. I was beginning to think it would never happen...every morning I woke up there never seemed to be any change. Anyway, without being political I hope the next few years are Good to us all with more prosperity and less of this damn virus (it can go now, I’m officially fed up with it all).
> 
> Thanks for all your comments on the last chapter. Shall we see how things are going at Pondicherry Lodge?

As she realised what she had asked she cringed a bit wondering just where that request had come from but Sherlock just shrugged and turned on the stairs to come back up. ‘I suppose you can.’

‘It’s just you said that was the room with most of the activity...I mean...ghosts and stuff.’

He smirked again. ‘I know what you meant. It’s this one.’

He took them past John’s room and a bathroom and then opened the door into a large but rather gloomy room at the front of the house. Even putting the lights on didn’t disperse the shadows in the corners of the room completely.

It was dominated by a large four poster bed with built in dark wood wardrobes on the opposite wall and wood panelling similar to that in the dining room downstairs. 

Molly walked in and briefly put her hand on the bottom of the bed, trying not to imagine herself pulling Sherlock down onto it, before making her way to look out of the casement windows overlooking the driveway. It was fully dark outside now and Molly felt a shiver run down her spine that was nothing to do with the cold in the room. It just felt as if there were eyes on her...and she didn’t mean Sherlock though she was aware of him watching her as she looked out over the darkened garden. 

It was strange though because even though she could almost feel a presence in the room it didn’t feel evil or scary in any way. 

She shook her head; this wasn’t like her, she was a woman of science not superstition. It was obviously all the talk of hauntings and the age of the house getting to her.

She turned and smiled brightly. ‘Well, you’ve definitely got the best room in the house. Lucky you.’

He winked. ‘I always am Molly...I always am.’

He glanced at his watch. ‘Shall we join the others downstairs then? I estimate that we just have time for a quick drink and a chance to get changed before the taxi arrives and I don’t know about you but I’m in the mood for a decent whisky...here’s hoping Janet has one.’

She eagerly agreed and followed him out. He paused to bang on John’s door, telling him to hurry up, and then they made their way down into a welcome feeling of warmth. Greg had been busy with the fires and both the sitting room and the kitchen were feeling cosy and welcoming. 

They joined him and Mrs Hudson in the sitting room and Sherlock was happy to find there was an expensive bottle of single malt sitting with the rest of the alcohol on the side board. He poured himself and Greg a double and opened a bottle of red wine for Molly and Mrs Hudson and by the time John and Sarah came downstairs the four of them had almost finished their drinks and were starting to disperse to gather up coats and bags for the trip to the pub.

Molly made her way back to the room with Mrs Hudson and the two of them speculated briefly on the menu that the pub might have for dinner that evening.

Molly quickly decided to change into a dressier top and she looked through her bag for the jewellery that she knew she’d brought with her; there was a necklace that she wanted to wear that went well with the low V neck cut of the top she was now wearing. The jewellery bag was there but the necklace wasn’t.

‘That’s funny…’

Mrs Hudson glanced around as she fixed her earrings. ‘What is?’

Molly gestured towards her bag. ‘I’m missing a necklace. I know I packed it…I remember putting it in.’

The older woman came over and glanced into her bag before moving some of the loose items that Molly had deposited onto her bed. ‘Are you sure? You’ve probably just left it on the side at home or it’s in the bottom of your overnight bag somewhere.’

Molly huffed as she rummaged once again through her belongings. ‘No, I know it was here…’

It was just then that there was a rap at the door. Mrs Hudson moved over to open it whilst Molly carried on looking through her things in frustration. She was surprised therefore when she heard Sherlock speaking.

‘Hey, I’ve just brought you your necklace. You must have left it in my room when you were in earlier. I recognised it as one you wore at that party that…’

Molly’s mouth fell open in shock as she saw what he was holding up…it was the very item she’d been looking for.

‘How did you get that?’

He frowned as he walked towards her. ‘Like I said, it was in my room; on the bedside cabinet.’

Molly took it from him and examined it and it was definitely her missing necklace. ‘How on earth did it get there? It was in my bag…I didn’t even take it with me earlier.’

‘You must have Molly…you just…’

‘No.’ her voice was firm and surprised them both. ‘No, I know I didn’t. I put it in my jewellery bag when I packed last night and I haven’t touched it since. So how on earth did it get to your room?’

Sherlock just looked bemused now. ‘I didn’t take it Molly, why would I?’

Molly shook her head in utter confusion. ‘No, of course you didn’t. I just…’

It was then that Mrs Hudson piped up. ‘Maybe it was the ghost. My sister did say that small items often get moved around the house.’

Sherlock narrowed his eyes and looked at the necklace where it lay in Molly’s hand. ‘I seriously doubt that. I’m sure there must be some logical explanation and I’m also sure that I’ll work it out in time.’ He turned back to Molly. ‘I take it you were planning to wear it tonight?’

He held his hand out for it and Molly felt confused. ‘Yes.’

‘Give it here then and hold your hair out of the way.’

Molly handed over the necklace and then turned her back. She couldn’t help but bite her lip as she scooped her hair out of the way and then she felt it…the brush of Sherlock’s fingers on her skin as he fastened the necklace at the nape of her neck. She had to stop herself from physically reacting to his touch but her skin felt hyper-sensitive and she could feel his breath close to her ear.

‘There you are; it looks very becoming on you Molly.’

His hands settled on her shoulders for a moment and his voice was low and seemed to slide over her and deep into her bones. She knew she was at risk of reading far more into this gesture than he had ever meant. She didn’t know what was wrong with her...maybe it was the feeling of being on holiday...out of their normal routine but all her old feelings for him had seemed very much at the forefront of her mind since this whole trip had begun.

It was Mrs Hudson who broke the spell in her normal, blunt fashion. ‘Are you two love birds quite done? Only I’m feeling a bit peckish and I’m sure I just heard the taxi beeping outside.’

Molly knew she was blushing as she busied herself picking up her coat and bag and by the time she’d turned around Sherlock had exited the room leaving Mrs Hudson waiting for her gesturing for her to hurry along.

A few minutes later and they were all in the cab and on their way and there was a lot of good humoured chat about the weekend ahead. Molly could see Sherlock getting more and more frustrated at the fact that there was so little thought being given to the fact that he was on a case but as she wasn’t sat close to him she couldn’t give him any reassurance. Instead she found herself being drawn into conversation by Greg who was asking her what she wanted from the weekend.

She smiled. ‘Oh I don’t mind. It’s just nice to be away. I feel like I’ve been stuck in London for months...I mean...I know I have, it just feels longer somehow what with all those lockdowns that we went through. How about you?’

‘Same. I don’t seem to have had much time for socialising this year...or dating...I was hoping to get back in the saddle since I split up with my wife last year but what with work and everything...’

Molly didn’t get a chance to respond as just then the cab pulled up outside a quintessentially English, village pub. It looked warm and welcoming with a golden light shining through its latticed windows and reflecting up onto the low thatch roof. 

Sherlock paid the cab driver and booked him again for closing time and then they all climbed out and hurriedly made their way to the front door so as to get in out of the cold. Molly could smell Autumn and could see her breath puffing out in front of her and it brought another smile to her face, reminding her once again just how much she liked this time of year.

She was the last one through the door that Sherlock was holding open and he followed her in, his hand low on her back as he guided her forwards and she felt a warm burst of happiness. She had had a good feeling about this weekend and so far it wasn’t disappointing her.

John reached the bar first and after confirming their table reservation he started to take people’s drink orders shouting them down when they offered to pay their own way. ‘Don’t be daft, it’s my round...you’ll get your turn later.’

There was a bit of confusion when they got to their table as everyone manoeuvred to claim a seat and Molly found herself in the enviable position of being sat between Sherlock and Greg. Mrs Hudson was to the right of Sherlock, then John and then Sarah.

Just as she had settled herself in her seat and picked up her menu to have a browse both Greg and Sherlock spoke to her at the same time. She found herself torn between the two momentarily but they both stopped speaking and glared at each other for a split second before Greg huffed and gave way to Sherlock. Molly shook her head a little in confusion but turned to him.

‘Sorry, what was it you said?’

‘I was just going to ask you what became of the body you were autopsying last time I was in; the fifty-nine-year-old with the enlarged liver.’

Molly narrowed her eyes, feeling suspicious. ‘Why?’

He smiled, but it was one of his genuine smiles not the false ones he used to give her back in the early days...she wondered at herself for never having seen the difference at the time but supposed until she saw a genuine smile that reached his eyes she would never have known.

‘Well, if his liver wasn’t going to any good purpose I just thought...’ he tailed off and shrugged and she laughed.

‘You thought I might steal it for you to experiment on?’

‘Steal is a rather loaded word. Borrow maybe?’

‘And what were you thinking experiment wise?’

Their conversation absorbed the two of them until they were interrupted by the waiter coming over to take their order. Molly was glad to hear Sherlock ordering something for once but as soon as his order had been placed he excused himself and left the table.

Molly watched him make his way through the small groups of people stood around the bar and she sighed. She always found her conversations with Sherlock stimulating and she wished, for what must be the thousandth time, that he felt for her as she felt for him. It was rare for her to find anyone happy to talk about dissection let alone seconds before ordering a medium rare steak.

‘Hey, would you like another wine Molly?’

She turned back to Greg and nodded. ‘Yes, thanks, that would be lovely. I probably shouldn’t but...well...I’m on holiday.’

He grinned back at her. ‘I know what you mean. It’s nice just being away and having a chance to let our hair down a bit. It’s making me think I should book some more time off work and look at maybe going abroad next year.’

She found herself agreeing with him, commenting that it had been nearly three years since she’d been abroad and they chatted happily about various, holidays they’d been on until he finally excused himself to go and get that round in.

It was when Greg was at the bar and waiting for the drinks that he caught up with Sherlock. He’d obviously been chatting to some of the locals, no doubt fishing for information about the house they were staying in, and as he finished Greg caught his attention.

‘Hey Sherlock. Another pint?’

‘Why not...thanks. Shall I give you a hand with them?’

Greg nodded and then lowered his voice. ‘So, did you find out much info?’

Sherlock nodded. ‘A bit, I’ll tell you later.’

As they waited for the drinks Sherlock could see that Lestrade was puzzling something out and in the end his frustration got the better of him. ‘Go on Greg, spit it out...what is it?’

The older man looked at him and took a breath. ‘I...I’m not sure whether I need to ask you this?’

Sherlock rolled his eyes. ‘Well I can’t answer that until you actually ask me...so?’

The question, when it came, surprised him probably more than it should have. 

‘It’s about Molly. I...I just wondered how you’d feel if I asked her out?’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh, so what do we think Sherlock’s response is going to be? Do we think he’ll let Greg make a move on his Molly?


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a lot of you are curious to see what Sherlock says to Greg...most think he’ll say it’s OK and then get jealous and I do love a jealous Sherlock. I also love a possessive Sherlock so who’s did I go with?
> 
> Meanwhile, I know there’s lots of Covid bad news everywhere and various lockdowns around the world so just stay safe my friends xxx

Greg wasn’t too sure what reaction he had expected from Sherlock. He was pretty sure that there was nothing on the detective’s side when it came to feelings but he felt he ought to ask just in case. He knew that Molly used to have feelings for Sherlock which was why he hadn’t asked her out the last time he’d split from his wife but he’d always fancied her...especially after seeing her in that black dress at a Christmas party at Sherlock’s flat a few years back. 

Sherlock seemed to turn slowly to face him, his eyes narrowed.

‘Sorry, why are you asking me about Molly?’

Greg shrugged. ‘Well, I know she umm...well I heard. I don’t bloody know Sherlock; I’m just making sure my way is clear before I make a move. So, you haven’t asked her out or anything?’

Sherlock tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. ‘As a matter of fact I have.’

Greg took a step back in surprise. ‘You have? You’ve actually asked her on a date?’

‘Yes, is that so surprising?’

Greg snorted. ‘Yeah, as a matter of fact it is. And this was recently was it?’

Sherlock nodded. ‘It was. She said yes in case you were wondering so I suppose you could say we’re in a relationship...early days and all but...’

Greg nodded. ‘Yeah, no, I get you. Fair enough, I’ll leave you to it then. Just...’

Sherlock frowned as he picked up a couple of the drinks that the barman had deposited in front of them. ‘Just what?’

‘Just be decent to her. She’s a good person.’

At that Sherlock finally smiled. ‘I intend to; I can assure you I have no intention of hurting her.’

‘Good, that’s good then.’

Greg took a breath and shook his head to himself as he followed Sherlock back to the table. He hadn’t thought he’d ever see the day that Sherlock would do something as mundane as dating (outside of a case) but it looked like he was wrong.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH 

Molly was aware of Greg making a point of chatting to Sarah when he and Sherlock got back to the table and she once again found herself in conversation with Sherlock until the food arrived. She was enjoying the buzz of the wine, the delicious food and the company of a group of people who had become really good friends over the last few years and as she put her knife and fork down at the end of the meal she relaxed back into her chair and smiled as she picked up her wine glass.

‘Penny for your thoughts Molly.’

She turned to Sherlock and shrugged. ‘I’m just happy. It’s nice to just be taking a break and relaxing don’t you think?’

He rolled his eyes but smiled. ‘Some of us are actually working you know.’

‘I suppose, but it still feels like a very welcome break. So much has happened over the last couple of years...and, I don’t know, I’m just feeling more hopeful about the future.’

Sherlock looked to be thinking about what she had said but before he could answer they were interrupted by Greg and Sarah. It seemed the two of them had a mutual love of cooking and had decided to cook everyone a meal for the next evening to mix things up a bit and they were canvassing the group about what they should serve.

Molly joined in that discussion even though she wasn’t the best of cooks and she was aware of Sherlock chatting to John and Mrs Hudson, sharing what he’d learnt about the house. She seemed to be acutely conscious of his physical presence, his body, in relation to her own. His leg was so close to hers it was almost as if she could feel the heat from it and at one point as he relaxed in his seat he put his arm across the back of her chair and she found herself wanting to lean into him. It was very distracting and she knew she wasn’t contributing a huge amount to the chat about what ingredients needed to be bought the next day and whether more than one dessert was needed.

It wasn’t long though until the conversation moved to Halloween itself and what the group normally got up to. It was only really Sarah and Molly who seemed to enjoy it as an event with the guys rolling their eyes and Mrs Hudson complaining about trick or treaters knocking on the door endlessly.

Sarah grinned at Molly as her co-conspirator in the love of all things Halloween. ‘I just love this time of year, the nights drawing in, the crisp air, carving out a pumpkin. And now we get to do it in a haunted house it couldn’t be more perfect.’

Molly nodded and lifted her glass up. ‘Hear, hear, I agree.’

‘So, go on. As we get to the spookiest night of the year what’s your biggest, most secret fear?’

Sarah widened her eyes and bit her lip as she looked around the group for responses. ‘Come on John...what’s yours?’

John laughed. ‘Well that’s bloody easy. Being hunted by a fake dog whilst your wanker of a best mate watches on laughing.’

He scowled at Sherlock who just huffed. ‘It was an important experiment for a case...’

That had the rest of the table laughing as Sarah moved on to Molly. ‘What’s yours then Molly?’

Molly shuddered a little as she thought of it and she felt Sherlock move his hand to her shoulder momentarily, giving it a light squeeze and she turned and gave him a tight smile in appreciation.

‘Honestly, I get claustrophobic. Being buried alive was one of my nightmares growing up...I think it’s what got me interested in pathology. Ugh, the thought still gives me the creeps. What about you Mrs H?’

Sherlock distracted them by laughing. ‘Oh I can answer that one...spiders.’

John nodded his head. ‘Oh God yes, I’ve been woken up more than once to go downstairs and remove whatever monster had dared to enter Baker St uninvited.’ He turned to Greg. ‘Come on...fess up. What’s yours?’

Lestrade shrugged. ‘I dunno. Umm...I don’t think I’m afraid of that much.’

Sarah nudged him and smiled. ‘Go on there must be something?’

He frowned. ‘OK, dying I suppose, worst case I don’t want to end up being a murder victim. I mean...given my job...how humiliating would that be? And you Sarah?’

‘Haha...probably mad seeing where we’re staying but seeing a ghost. The thought of it keeps me awake at night at the best of times so I’m glad I’m not sleeping alone tonight.’

At that she turned to John who leant in to kiss her. ‘Maybe it won’t be a ghost keeping you awake tonight.’ He winked and ignored the groans from around the table. Then he turned and indicated towards Sherlock with his pint. ‘Come on, Sherlock, what’s yours?’

The group turned towards Sherlock and Molly wondered what on earth he’d come out with. She couldn’t imagine him being afraid of much.

He sighed and took a sip of his pint before he answered.

‘A few years ago I would have said nothing but having met my sister...having seen what she has become...my biggest fear would be being alone. Having friends, having you...well, not all of you obviously,’ he gestured towards Sarah who rolled her eyes. ‘Well, let’s just say I realise the importance of having people in my life who care about me and keep me grounded.’

It seemed to put an end to the conversation and it was good that at that moment their desserts and another round of drinks arrived and they once again broke off into smaller groups and chats.

All too soon the cab arrived to take them all back and Molly found Sherlock offering to help her on with her coat. She narrowed her eyes and looked at him suspiciously. ‘Go on, what are you wanting? I’ve never known you to be so chivalrous before.’

He put on a sad look and placed his hand on his chest. ‘Molly, I’m hurt. I’ve always been a gentleman.’

She chuckled. ‘I’m not so sure about that but I’ll enjoy it as long as it lasts.’

He crooked his elbow towards her and she looped her arm through and let him guide her through the pub and out to the waiting car. He made a point of holding the door and helping her in before he made his way to the passenger seat.

‘I see Sherlock is being very attentive; glad he’s treating you right Molly.’ 

She half smiled half frowned at Greg wondering what exactly he meant but the cab setting off distracted her as she hurried to get her seatbelt on.

It was almost midnight when they got back to the house and seeing it bathed in moonlight made it look all the more sinister to Molly’s eyes and for the first time she felt a shiver of concern ripple through her. She’d never slept in a haunted house before and whilst in the cold light of day it seemed like a fun idea now it was upon her she found herself wavering. It meant that when there was talk of a nightcap she leapt on the idea wanting to feel the safety of companionship for a little longer.

As they settled themselves in the front room she asked Sherlock what he’d learnt at the pub.

‘Not a huge amount. The house has been in the same family, the Shaltos, for the last two hundred years or more, which I already knew from the land registry records that I’d found. The last owner died just over a year ago and as there was no clear inheritor the property was sold and the proceeds divided between the grandchildren. Only one lives in the village, he apparently moved back a month or so after the property was sold but by all accounts he is a pillar of the community...always suspicious in my opinion but I don’t have much else to go on at the moment. I need to do some more digging.’

He glanced at his watch and downed the rest of his whisky. ‘Well, no time like the present...let me know if anything spooky happens.’ He raised his eyebrows and waggled his fingers as he said that which raised a laugh but soon after he’d gone the rest of the party started to break up and go to their respective rooms.

Molly followed Mrs Hudson and her earlier mood seemed a little ridiculous in the light of the cosy bedroom they were sharing.

As they settled into their twin beds Mrs Hudson started to put on an eye mask and tucked herself into the covers. 

‘Good night Molly dear, I hope you get a good night’s sleep. It’s always so quiet here compared to London that I often find it a little unnerving.’

Molly was suddenly aware of how right she was. She was used to a constant hum of traffic, the odd siren, laughter from drinkers leaving nearby pubs. Now all she could hear was the odd creak of doors and floorboards and the hoot of a distant owl outside. 

She clicked off the light and tried to get comfortable but soon she was distracted by a different noise; that of Mrs Hudson snoring.

It was persistent and just irregular enough that Molly couldn’t seem to block it out. She tried pulling the covers up over her ears and even lifting her arm so it rested over her ear. That worked initially and she did fall asleep but she woke up an hour later with a dead arm and a cricked neck and she knew it wasn’t the solution she needed. After another half an hour of restlessly turning and even nudging Mrs Hudson’s bed in an attempt to make her lie differently Molly gave up. She was going to have to find somewhere else to sleep.

She scooped up her pillow and a throw from the bottom of the bed and she quietly made her way out into the corridor.

The cold made her shudder and she quickly decided on trying one of the settees in the front room. They were certainly long enough and hopefully there would still be some residual heat from the fireplace.

She found her breath catching in her throat as she made her way through the dark house. Every shadow seemed to move and stretch making her jump and worry about being out there on her own. 

It was a relief to finally make it to the front room and she flicked on a couple of lights for good measure as she made up her temporary bed on the settee closest to the fireplace. A quick prod with the cast iron poker uncovered some live, red hot coals and Molly started to feel quite warm and tired again as she climbed under her cover and turned out the light.

She wasn’t sure what time it was when she next awoke or exactly what it was that woke her but the room was dark and cold. What light and heat there had been from the fire had disappeared and every nerve in Molly’s body seemed to be on high alert.

There was another creak and she found herself holding her breath and lifting her head slightly so she could hear better. There was something moving in the house and it was heading her way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh things are going bump and creak in the night and not in a good way. Anyway, let me know what you thought of Sherlock’s reaction and revelation to Greg. And if you’re brave enough tell me what your fear is...mine? I’m a Mrs Hudson, I don’t like spiders....ugh!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my God, can someone tell me where November is going to because it seems to be racing by. It feels like December and Christmas is almost upon us and I’m not ready. The only thing I am on top of is that I’m well underway with writing a short Christmas fic for you…hope that’s good news.
> 
> Back to this one, a lot of you are liking Sherlock’s reaction to Greg wanting to ask Molly out. Only trouble is that our Molly knows nothing and is currently wondering what’s moving in the house. Shall we find out?

She could feel her heart pounding in her chest and the hairs on the back of her neck seemed to be standing on end. A trickling sense of fear seemed to be overtaking her and she wondered if she should get out of her makeshift bed and get hold of the poker but she couldn’t bear the idea of getting out from under the safety of her covers.

There was another creak and the sound of a door opening and she couldn’t seem to tell from what part of the house it was in. It felt like her mind was playing tricks was it upstairs or was the noise was coming from the corner of the room to the right of the fireplace...but there was no door there? 

She swallowed heavily and started to sit up, her eyes as wide as saucers as she tried to see through the darkness. There seemed to be something there...in the room with her...a dark shape that was getting bigger.

She opened her mouth wanting to scream but found she couldn’t seem to catch her breath...no sound came out but instead she started to push on her covers scrambling to move...to get out of the room.

She tumbled onto the floor and pushed herself to her feet. She didn’t want to turn away from whatever it was but equally she needed to get to the door...the terror seemed to be overwhelming her, robbing her of any rational thought until all that was left was instinct.

She turned to run but as she did the door in front of her started to open and a dark shape, backlit by lights from the kitchen moved towards her and Molly found herself instead scrabbling backwards.

Her foot hit something and unbalanced her and she finally found her voice as she started to fall backwards, crying out in fear, but before she could land her wrist was caught in a strong grasp and another hand caught her waist pulling her back up and forwards.

Even as she hit the chest of whoever had her she started to wriggle and fight until the moment she heard Sherlock’s voice.

‘It’s OK Molly, it’s me...it’s me.’

At the sound of his voice she sagged with relief and found herself gripping his dressing gown and pulling him closer as she tried to get her reactions back under control. Her heart seemed to be racing and her body trembling and she felt his arms tighten around her and pull her closer. 

She took a deep breath in a desperate bid to centre herself and it was only it that moment that she realised what a compromising position she was in. She was only wearing a slip of a nightdress which in all the kerfuffle had ridden up so that Sherlock’s hand on her lower back was on naked skin with her bum completely exposed. Now she WAS glad of the dark.

As her breathing started to go back to normal he began to let go of her and she was acutely conscious that his hand moved down rather than away and he must have realised the situation because he suddenly stepped back, giving her space to sort herself out.

‘What happened?’

She turned to pick up her dressing gown as he moved to flick on the light and as he did she turned to look at the corner by the fireplace but there was nothing there...no looming shape or bogeyman.

She frowned and shook her head in confusion as she put on her gown.

‘I don’t know...I think I was just being silly. I thought I heard something...I mean...I did but I just got confused. It must have been you coming downstairs but in the dark and half asleep I thought there was someone there...’

She gestured to the corner and she was grateful that rather than laughing at her Sherlock went over and examined the panelling on the wall tapping it and seeing if it would move or give way at all.

She followed him over. ‘Is there anything there? Or am I just going mad?’

He sighed. ‘I certainly don’t think you’re going mad Molly. It does sound different...listen.’

He tapped the lower panel and then the upper panel and Molly could tell the lower one sounded more hollow. She wasn’t sure whether that made her feel better or worse. 

‘So someone was in here with me?’

Her voice seemed quiet and a little lost and Sherlock stood and smiled at her.

‘Maybe...but this is good news Molly. It’s matching my hypothesis. This is not the work of a ghost.’ He sank into reverie for a moment but then glanced at the blankets on the settee.

‘So why are you in here? No, let me work it out. You were with Mrs Hudson but you couldn’t sleep in there for some reason...not hard to understand...I take it her snoring kept you awake.’

He smirked and she nodded. 

‘Yes, I’ve heard her myself even through the floorboards of Baker St some nights. Always worse when she’s had a few drinks or one of her herbal soothers. Well, one thing’s for certain you can’t stay here.’

Molly sighed and mock shuddered. ‘You’re not wrong there. Don’t suppose you have any ear plugs I can borrow?’

He chuckled and started to make his way back into the kitchen. ‘I can go one better than that...you might as well come and share my room, the beds more than big enough for both of us.’

Molly was glad that he had his back turned and couldn’t see either her blush or her look of shock.

‘Sh..share your bed?’

He turned back and smiled. ‘Yes, why not? We’re both adults. Come on.’

He went and poured himself some water which was no doubt his reason for coming down at 3.00 in the morning.

‘I...umm...suppose.’ Molly followed him through the kitchen and hall and then up the stairs to his room and as she did she felt almost like she was in a dream. She wondered if she’d wake up if she pinched herself but didn’t want to try it in case she did.

When they got to his room her eyes immediately went to the bed only to see that the covers were untouched...so he hadn’t been asleep then. Instead it was obvious he’d been working at his laptop which was set up on the dressing table near the window. She couldn’t help but feel a bit deflated when she realised he would probably still be working whilst she slept. 

She was wrong though.

He placed the water on the bedside cabinet furthest from the door and he stripped off his dressing gown and started to climb into the bed. Only stopping when he realised that Molly was still stationary near the doorway.

‘Are you coming to bed or just standing there instead?’

She saw him raise an eyebrow and it had the desired effect of making her move and she made her way over to the bed hoping beyond hope that her blush had calmed down and wasn’t giving her away. 

It hadn’t.

Sherlock smiled to himself as he settled himself under the covers and turned off the bedside lamp. Having Molly in his bed seemed very opportune and also made him realise that his feelings for her were definitely more than just emotional...they were physical as well.

When he’d found her downstairs, frightened and desperate, it had felt so very natural to hold her. Granted he hadn’t immediately realised that her nightdress had rucked up under his hands but the feel of her warm flesh and the knowledge that she was naked underneath had had blood pulsing to his groin. He’d had to pull back and away from her so that she didn’t realise how much he was affected by her. The situation wasn’t getting any better now she was in his bed but he was determined to be a gentleman and progress their relationship at the right rate.

It didn’t take him long, however, to realise that Molly seemed to be neither breathing or moving. Instead she was perched on the far edge of the bed in a way that he knew must be deeply uncomfortable.

He couldn’t help himself and he reached out and took hold of her waist pulling her towards him. He laughed at her surprised squeak.

‘Relax Molly...breathe...I won’t bite I promise. Now, are you comfy?’

He encouraged her to roll onto her side and he lay behind her with his arm across her stomach. ‘Now sleep.’

He took a deep breath, breathing in her scent and smiling as her hair tickled his face, and he could feel himself relaxing for the first time that day...it wasn’t going to take him long to fall asleep.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH 

Molly lay in the dark and felt the moment that Sherlock fell asleep, feeling him relax against her even more as his breathing evened out.

She bit her lip and smiled as she finally risked sliding her hand over his where it lay just beneath her ribs. Who would have thought he’d ask her into his bed let alone spoon her? She wondered if it meant anything or if he had just wanted to make her feel more at ease and she worried that she was in danger of feeling hope...something she’d long since given up when it came to a relationship with Sherlock Holmes. In all honesty he probably had no idea how many boundaries he was crossing with his behaviour but she decided she was just going to enjoy the moment and not overthink it.

......

It was early morning when Molly next awoke but it wasn’t a gentle awakening. Instead she was jolted awake when she heard a tremendous crash and a blood curdling scream.

She felt Sherlock jerk and pull away from her, already moving to leave the bed and she struggled to push herself up and follow him, rubbing sleep from her eyes as she grabbed at her dressing gown.

As she left his room John was opening the door to his and she saw his look of confusion no doubt at seeing her exiting Sherlock’s room but he didn’t say anything; instead he ran to catch up with Sherlock just as Greg appeared. 

‘What the fuck was that?’

Molly shook her head as she followed the men down the corridor towards the unused bedrooms. Sherlock had already checked and discounted the first room but she saw him disappear into the second room...the one with the wardrobe and the ball gowns she’d been admiring.

As she entered behind John and Greg Sherlock was already pushing past them to exit the room and John followed. Molly and Greg however stood surveying the damage. Someone or something had pulled over the large mahogany wardrobe which was lying on the floor with shards of broken mirror lying shattered around it.

‘Careful Molly, don’t stand on any.’

Greg had put his hand out to stop her entering any further seeing as they both had nothing on their feet and she stopped dead shaking her head.

‘What the hell happened? And who was that screaming?’

‘I have no idea. And where the bloody hell has Sherlock gone now?’

They both left the room, acknowledging Sarah who was hovering in the doorway to her and John’s bedroom.

‘Is everything alright? What was that?’

It was Molly who answered as Greg lightly ran down the stairs. She could hear John and Sherlock down there and she was eager to catch them all up and find out what was happening.

‘Someone pulled over a wardrobe which explains the crash.’

‘And that scream? God, it sounded like someone being murdered.’

Molly shrugged. ‘No idea. I’m going to catch up with the others downstairs.’

She felt Sarah moving to follow her. ‘Don’t go without me. I’m not staying up here by myself.’

The two of them found Sherlock angrily stalking back towards the stairs with John trailing behind him and Greg moving to meet them.

‘Did you find anything?’

It was Sherlock who answered, angrily pushing past Greg.

‘No dammit, I was a fool. It was just a distraction and I fell for it. I should have come down here straight away instead of heading to the bedrooms.’

There seemed to be a general confusion over what he meant and they seemed, as one, to make their way to the large kitchen. Molly started to fill up the kettle as Greg went to light the Aga...one thing was certain...they all needed a coffee before they figured out just what was going on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, prizes to all those who guessed that Molly would end up in Sherlock’s bed but nothing nefarious happening just yet. Hope you’re all enjoying the creepy happenings in the house. Let me know what you think, I always love hearing from you all xxx


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the feedback on the last chapter. It seems you’re all glad that Molly has found her way into Sherlock’s bed. A lot of you also think it’s about time he was honest with her about his feelings...but come on, where is the fun in that? ;)
> 
> Shall we find out what happened in the early hours?

As Molly started to make the cups of coffee John interrogated Sherlock.

‘So? What was that?’

Sherlock scoffed and turned to face his best friend. ‘That was our erstwhile ghost...I thought that was obvious even for you.’

John took a deep breath and Molly smiled to herself at his obvious frustration. She knew just how he felt.

‘I know what it appeared to be but what was it actually? Why do I get the feeling you know more than you are telling us?’

At this Sherlock shrugged. ‘I don’t really. I’m still guessing and I don’t like to guess. Whoever is causing these “disturbances” is as real as you or I. I should have realised that they’re just playing at being a ghost and trying to frighten us...instead I was a fool and reacted just how they’d planned.’

John pointed his fingers at him. ‘See that...that’s what I’m not getting. What should you have done?’

Sherlock finally sat down as Molly passed him his coffee, nodding his head and smiling in thanks.

‘I shouldn’t have followed the sound. I should have gone downstairs and caught them in the act of leaving. They pushed over the wardrobe, played a recording of a scream and then headed out of the room for the back stairs to the ground floor. Once there they probably exited the way they’d come in. If I’d gone downstairs straight away I would probably have been able to apprehend them.’

Greg joined in. ‘But who is it and how did they get in? I know we locked up before we went to bed last night.’

‘They got in how they’ve always been getting in...through a secret passage. I thought it was in the dining room but after what happened to Molly last night I’m suspecting it’s actually in the front room.’

All eyes turned to Molly and she smiled shyly at being the focus of their attention. 

John stepped forwards and placed his hand on her arm looking concerned. ‘What happened? Are you alright? Is that why you were in Sherlock’s room?’

At that Molly knew she was blushing and she turned away and busied herself refilling the kettle.

‘It was nothing...I was in the front room when I thought I saw something in the corner. It was dark though and I was half asleep.’

Sherlock broke in. ‘I trust you Molly and if you say there was something there I believe you. Anyway, I found her and given Mrs Hudson’s snoring there was nowhere else for Molly to go other than to share my room.’

Molly heard Greg snort and she turned to him frowning. He held his hands up. ‘What? Best excuse I’ve ever heard.’

She was about to answer when Mrs Hudson herself turned up yawning and pulling her dressing gown tight.

‘My, my you lot are up early. Have I missed something?’

After bringing her up to speed they all had another coffee and some toast for breakfast before retiring back to their rooms to either shower, get dressed or have another hour’s sleep.

The morning was very relaxed. Greg and Sarah finalised their list for the ingredients needed for the meal they were cooking that evening and they headed out to the village. John and Molly joined them wanting a walk and something to do. They left Sherlock still trying to work out how to access the so called secret passage, and Mrs Hudson ignoring him whilst she relaxed with a good book and a plate of biscuits.

Lunch was a sociable affair and afterwards Molly decided to go back to her room to pick up her own book...Mrs Hudson had inspired her to relax for a while.

She hadn’t long been in the room when she heard the door open behind her. She was about to turn and see who it was when she found herself grabbed from behind and a cloth was placed across her mouth and nose. Fear kicked in immediately and she struggled in their grasp trying desperately to remember any self defence classes she had ever attended or videos she had ever watched but in the moment her mind seemed to come up blank. She tried to scream but the cloth muffled the sound and as she inhaled once more she could feel the sting of chloroform at the back of her throat. 

Panic rushed through her at the thought of being drugged but even as she slammed her foot back trying to kick at her assailant she could feel the effects taking over her senses. Her vision was blurring and the room felt further away...less real. She tried to shout Sherlock’s name, the image of him swimming before her eyes, as she felt her strength seeping away. The last thing she remembered was feeling hands under her legs scooping her up but then all went black.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

It must have been two hours later when Sherlock made his way downstairs. He had been investigating the one of the relatives of the previous owner; a nephew that lived in the village. If anyone knew the secrets of the house it was him and he was Sherlock’s prime suspect in what was taking place. He had been very vocal about his disagreement over the sale of the house and now, in Sherlock’s opinion, he was trying to drive out the current owner and no doubt bring down the price.

Sarah and Greg seemed to be busy in the kitchen and he just nodded as he made his way through and into the front room. There he found John and Mrs Hudson chatting about Rosie and her recent progress with talking. He ignored them and made his way to the drinks on the side board where he poured himself a large whisky. 

As he turned and leant on the wooden cabinet, bringing the drink up to his lips, he felt a sudden coldness that had him shifting uncomfortably and wondering if there was a draft. Before he could move however he sensed a presence just over his right shoulder. It was so strong that even though he knew there couldn’t possibly be anyone there he still found himself turning his head towards it.

As he’d expected there was nothing there but he swore that he heard a faint whisper...more than that he felt the air close to his ear moving as though with a breath. It was just one word but it sent his heart rate rocketing...’Molly...’

‘Where’s Molly?’

He saw Mrs Hudson jump slightly at his sudden interjection into their conversation. She put her hand on her chest and turned to him looking slightly confused. ‘I...err...I think she went to our bedroom. I remember her saying something about wanting to read.’

Sherlock put down his drink and made his way back through the house to the downstairs room that Molly shared with his landlady. The door was half open and he called her name as he pushed it and walked through but there was no reply. As soon as he entered the room though his heart lurched in terror. He was about to call for John when his friend appeared in the doorway.

‘What’s up? You left like there was a demon chasing you.’

Sherlock turned to him and saw John reacting to what must have been a look of devastation on his face. The shorter man took a step towards him and held out his hand.

‘What? What is it?’

‘Someone’s taken Molly.’

‘What! How...how can you tell?’ John’s eyes scanned the room but Sherlock knew from past experience that his friend will have noticed nothing of importance.

‘There are at least a dozen clues but the most compelling is the smell...a very distinctive one that I’m sure you’ll recognise if you take a moment.’

He saw John breathe in deeply, his nostrils flaring just before his eyes widened in recognition. They spoke together...’chloroform’.

John’s shock turned almost immediately to concern. ‘Who would take her? And why? I mean...what the hell Sherlock! Can you track her...track the smell?’

At that Sherlock responded angrily, already pushing past his friend. ‘I’m a detective not a fucking blood hound. Come on, we need to tell the others...set up a search party.’

John nodded. ‘Yes, of course.’

As he left the room, John following, Sherlock scoured the corridor looking for any clues as to where Molly might have been taken. This wasn’t like the time that Mrs Hudson was accosted by the CIA agents in Baker St; there were no scratch marks on the wall paper or scuff marks where she had fought against being dragged. No, Molly had been drugged and carried out of there unconscious. His stomach twisted as he hoped that that was the best of it. Chloroform in inexperienced hands could be dangerous, what if she’d been given too much? What if she’d had a bad reaction? Vomiting when unconscious could be deadly. 

He felt his emotions spiralling in a way that had only happened a couple of times in his life. The first had been when he’d had to jump off Barts rooftop to save his friends and the second time had been that nightmare of a day that he’d spent as a lab rat in his sister’s maze. He vividly remembered just how he’d felt when that phone call to Molly had ended and he’d realised just how much he’d hurt her and just how much of himself he’d exposed...it was an experience he was still recovering from and now here he was again. Thrust back into a nightmare where he could lose Molly; where he could lose the one person who was the most important to him. 

But he had to focus. Falling apart wouldn’t help her. He needed to bury his emotions for now and concentrate on what would save her.

John was soon telling the others the situation after he and Sherlock arrived in the kitchen and Greg was quick to take charge. 

‘John, Sarah you go and check the back of the house...the woods. I’ll check the front. Sherlock, Mrs Hudson, you concentrate on the house. If there are secret passages you’re the most likely person to find them. We can worry about why she has been taken once we find her. Keep your phone on you and ring me as soon as you have her.’

Sherlock felt as if he was wading through treacle as he made his way back through the ground floor, his limbs felt heavy and unresponsive from fear. He had to think...to concentrate. There was no point looking in the kitchen or the front room, they’d both been occupied. He needed to focus on the rest of the house. He needed to save Molly Hooper...nothing else in his life was more important than that.

JWJWJWJWJWJWJWJWJWJWJW

John and Sarah quickly grabbed their jackets and headed out of the back of the house. It was past four o’clock and what was left of the daylight was fast disappearing. 

As they made their way through the gardens, looking under every bush and behind every tree, Sarah kept up a bit of a running commentary.

‘Why does this always happen when I’m with you? I swear to God trouble follows that friend of yours. I’ve dated dozens on men and never been asked to search for a body when I’m...’

John cut across her angrily. ‘We’re not searching for a body; we’re looking for Molly. She not...she can’t be...we’re just not.’

Sarah fell quiet but both of them paused and glanced at each other as they came unsuccessfully to the boundary of the property and looked at the dark, ominous depths of the wood beyond.

He saw Sarah shudder a little and bite her lip and he couldn’t say he blamed her. In any other circumstance he would not be suggesting entering this wood but he couldn’t let Sherlock down. His friend had never said it in so many words but John had already guessed that his assumption about Irene being Sherlock’s love interest was wrong. Maybe she had been once upon a time but if John had had to give a name now it would be Molly’s. If anything happened to her Sherlock would be devastated...they all would. He couldn’t let that happen, not on his watch.

‘Come on, we need to check everywhere and that includes this wood. Just...let’s just stick together in there. OK.’

Sarah gave him a quick nod and with a heavy heart and a deep sense of foreboding he pushed open the gate and led the way into the trees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, our Molly is in danger, Sherlock is going out if his mind trying to find her and John is about to go into the woods. Is it getting scary enough for you or do you want more?


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving to my American readers. I hope you have a great, but safe, day xxx
> 
> Re the fic I’m glad it’s feeling creepy enough. So, Molly is missing and John and Sarah are heading into the woods. Who are we most worried about? Shall we see what’s happening?

Within ten minutes John was wishing he’d taken a moment to go back to the house to collect a torch before he’d entered into the wood. As they followed the path from the house into the trees what little daylight had been remaining was soon eliminated and he had to activate the torch setting on his phone so they could see where they were going.

He swung the light left and right trying to see if there were any structures hidden in the wood that Molly might have been taken to but there was nothing. It also felt oppressively silent. The normal sounds you’d expect to hear in a woodland environment strangely missing and it only seemed to heighten his anxiety. 

A crack of wood behind him made him jump until he heard Sarah swearing under her breath and he had to admit that he was glad she was with him. He wasn’t one to spook easily but this place just seemed to be pushing all his buttons and he found himself short of breath and sweating even though there was an icy coldness beneath the boughs of trees which looked twisted and dead.

He cleared his throat and called Molly’s name taking a moment to listen to see if he could hear anything in response and he did hear a distant stirring which had him turning his phone towards it seeing the shadows dance and sway around him.

He took a fork in the path towards where he’d heard the noise and called Molly’s name again and when he heard another rustle in response he picked up his pace. Maybe she was tied up and couldn’t shout...maybe she was making whatever noise she could to get his attention.

After a couple more minutes he called again but this time the response made his blood run cold. It was a low, growling sound which sent him straight back to that night in Baskerville. His heart seemed to catch in his throat and he could see the tremor in his hands from the way the light on his phone juddered.

‘W..what the fuck was that? Sarah? Sarah?’

He turned to find she wasn’t behind him and his nerves felt shot to pieces as he raised his voice and called her name.

The only response was another rustle and a growl and he realised that whatever was out there was getting closer. It had him stumbling backwards and in the dark his foot caught on a root and he went down hard, dropping his phone as he did; the light immediately cut out and he swore as he desperately felt around on the mulched earth to see if he could find it.

He was on his hands and knees when he heard the animal once more. Whatever it was was big and stealthy and he found himself holding his breath and squeezing his eyes shut...hoping beyond hope that it couldn’t smell his fear. His arms were shaking so badly he thought they might not be able to carry on holding his weight.

There was silence for a moment and John desperately tried to decide what to do...should he stay where he was and try to hide or should he make a run for it? And where was Sarah? Was she safe? He just didn’t dare shout out. He was ashamed to say that any thought of looking for Molly was completely eradicated. All he wanted was to be out of this place; to be back in the warmth and safety of the house.

In the absence of any more sounds he forced himself to reach out his hand again and try to find his phone. His fingers slid into something warm and sticky and for a split second he thought he might vomit. He pulled back and desperately wiped them on the leaves, his whole body shuddering and shaking.

He choked back a sob and just as he did there was a buzzing ahead and to the right of him and he saw the outline of his phone as it lit up, face down, with an incoming message.

He didn’t even think about what he was doing. He just reached for his phone and as he grabbed it he got to his feet and ran. He used what little light there still was on his dying phone to light his way and he crashed back along the path. He fell a second time painfully banging his knee, a branch slicing along his cheek, but this time he didn’t drop the phone and he didn’t pause. He just pushed himself back up and ploughed on.

He heard a creature howling behind him, something making its way through the undergrowth behind him and it just pushed him on. Another branch hit his face and he pushed it out of his way...his heart thudding in his chest and his breathing ragged and painful.

His eyes started to blur with tears and he felt as if he was on the verge of collapse when he suddenly saw the light of one of the windows in the house and it gave him just the adrenaline rush that he needed to keep going. 

As he broke out of the wood he tumbled for a third time rolling over completely on the muddy earth before he picked himself up and sprinted for the gate in the wall around the property. He had never been so glad to get away from somewhere in his whole life. 

He closed the gate behind him and his eyes scoured the darkness trying to see if anything had followed him out of the trees and it was only then that he remembered he had left Sarah behind.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Sherlock was unaware of John’s current state of mind but his own was little better except his fear was for Molly and her safety not his own. He had worked his way through most of the rooms on the ground floor and just had the dining room and box room left. Already his mind was three steps ahead working out where he would go next and what he needed to do but as soon as he entered the large, open space he felt that same icy breath as he had in the front room. He couldn’t explain it at all but he knew Molly was close.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH 

Molly came too slowly. Her mouth was dry and as she lay there she licked her lips and swallowed trying to get some moisture back. Her brain felt sluggish as she tried to remember where she was and what she’d been doing. As she moved slightly her arm and back ached and she frowned as she realised she was lying on something very cold and very hard. She opened her eyes and blinked and then blinked again before she understood that it wasn’t her eyes not working she was just lying in some place that was completely dark.

It was at that moment that she recalled what had happened in the bedroom and as her stomach dropped in fear her heart began to hammer in her chest. She’d been drugged and taken...but taken where?

She pressed on her hands to lift herself up and recognised smooth stone under her palms but as she tried to stand she banged her head and dropped back down painfully onto her knees. She lifted her hands up cautiously and used them to explore her surroundings. The roof also felt like stone and was about 4 feet from the floor. She reached out and started to feel the outer limits of the space. It was maybe 6 or 7 feet long. About the same width and 4 feet high. Not quite the size of a coffin but Molly felt dizzy with fear at the thought of being trapped inside such a dark, confined space. 

She could feel herself starting to shake and an overwhelming feeling of panic started to grip her and she knew she desperately needed to calm down and think. Panicking wasn’t going to get her out of there but stopping those feelings wasn’t going to be easy. For a moment it took her over and she could feel her breathing getting out of control, her throat tightening with the urge to scream...but maybe making some noise was the right thing.

‘Sherlock...Sherlock...I’m here...please...please God find me...’

For a moment it felt good but as she listened for a response she heard nothing except her own harsh, ragged breathing and she wrapped up into a ball and started to rock as she muttered to herself...’he’ll find me, he’ll find me’.

She knew she was going under, that she was in danger of sinking into some sort of mental abyss. She also knew that sitting here doing nothing wasn’t going to help her.

Squeezing her eyes shut she took a couple of deep breaths trying to calm her heart rate down and she pictured Sherlock’s face; his smile, his laugh, his laser sharp look of concentration when he was solving something. It all helped and after a minute or two she felt able to relax her hold on her knees and she started to talk to herself. 

‘Concentrate...there must be a door...find it...’

She moved around the small space and used her hands and her fingers to move along each wall and it didn’t take her long to realise that part of one was made of wood and not stone. She felt an element of slight relief and she focused her attention on its rough surface looking for hinges and bolts. The hinges she found quite quickly but there were just holes on the other side where any lock might go. That meant it must lock on the outside only. It didn’t really surprise her; she didn’t think it would be easy to get out of here.

She listened for a moment and couldn’t hear anything but still she hammered on the door and shouted out...she couldn’t do nothing. 

She did that on and off for what felt like a lifetime, until her hands ached and her voice felt hoarse. Time had no meaning to her. She could have been trapped for an hour or a day. Twice she broke down and sobbed and on the second time she felt something shift in the room. She just didn’t feel so alone and she could have sworn she heard someone or something whisper, ‘he’s close’. It should have terrified her but it didn’t it spurred her on and she moved to the door once more.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH 

Sherlock took a deep breath and looked around the room. He knew exactly what and where he had checked the last time he was in here. There was nothing along the wood panelling he was certain of that...at least no catches, no triggers to open any of them up.

His eyes moved to the large fireplace. He remembered Molly excitedly pressing on the decorative stonework around the outside trying to see if any would open anything. He smiled to himself at the memory and then felt a shard of pain rip through him at the thought of not seeing her again. He took a breath, he needed to focus, and so he made his way over. It was the one place he hadn’t checked himself and she might have missed something. He prayed she had missed something.

Just as she had done he used his fingers to trace around and press all the shapes and indents and markings on the large stone mantelpiece. Then he moved inside. He had to duck and crouch but it was large enough to house him. He checked up the chimney, his hands now covered in decades old soot. He checked the back of the fireplace and the sides...but there was nothing. He dropped his head and closed his eyes sighing and that was when he heard it. It was muffled but it was a definite banging to the right of him.

‘Molly...Molly...if that’s you bang twice.’

He closed his eyes to concentrate his senses on his hearing and he heard her call out his name...faint but definitely her and his heart leapt. She was alive...his Molly was alive. He just had to get to her; he’d rip through the wall with his bare hands if he had to.

He resumed his efforts with renewed vigour repeating everything he’d already checked whilst getting more and more frustrated. The trigger had to be here. The age of any mechanism meant it would likely not be too sophisticated and therefore must be within five or ten feet of where she was.

He stepped back off the grate and heard it shift under his feet and that was when he realised and he cursed his own stupidity in not checking it earlier.

It was cast iron and heavy but he pulled it up and stared down into the metal tin suspended below to catch the ash from any fire. He knew from his own fireplace in Baker St that this could be easily lifted out so that it could be emptied. In a normal fireplace he would expect to see a slab of stone beneath it but not here. There was another piece of metal. He quickly felt about the edges until he was able to get a hold of it and he lifted it up. It squeaked up on an ancient hinge until he could lean it against the edge of the hole...and there it was. An old wooden handle bolted into the stonework but with a fresh smear of oil lubricating the fulcrum.

He took hold of it feeling how smooth the wood had become over the centuries it must have been in place. It took him a moment to figure out which way to pull it and when he did he heard a creak and a whoosh and he turned his head to the right to see one of the wood panels sliding back and to the side leaving a large dark space behind it.

He hurried over and saw a thicker, larger, wooden door hidden behind with a simple pair of newish bolts holding it shut. They slid open easily; oiled just as the trigger mechanism had been.

His heart was beating ten to the dozen as he pulled it open and Molly blindly half fell, half pushed her way out. Her eyes immediately squeezed shut at the brightness from the room but she surged forwards into his grasp until she had her arms wrapped around his neck. He could feel her slight body shaking as he held her tight against him and without knowing quite how it had happened he felt his lips meeting hers and then moving against them as they kissed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well after all that angst there had to be an outlet for all their emotions. I hope you liked it, I admit I’m a bit nervous as to whether I write ‘fear’ well, so let me know. xx


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, hope you guys are all good. Thanks you for all the feedback. Shall we see how the kiss goes?

For just a few moments Sherlock’s mind seemed to still. Every part of him was focused on Molly and how she was making him feel. Her hands were weaving themselves into his hair and as she tugged on the strands he let out a groan and tilted her head so he could deepen the kiss. He had been dreaming of this moment but nothing had really prepared him for the reality. He’d fooled himself into thinking that any physical relationship between them would be limited but he’d been a fool. He wanted her...in every possible way.

The kiss only ended when they both heard John entering the house and calling out for both Sherlock and Sarah. He sounded so panicked that they immediately separated, looking at each other in shock and confusion for a second before Sherlock started to get to his feet, holding his hand out to Molly.

‘Can you walk? Do you need my help?’

‘I...I’m fine.’

He knew she wasn’t and there was no way he was going to leave her there but helping her to her feet and making their way out of the room seemed to take an eternity and he was tempted to just scoop her up and carry her but he sensed she wouldn’t be overly happy with that idea. Instead he half supported her as she staggered along beside him. She was obviously still suffering some side effects of the drugs used on her as well as having been cramped up in a small, cold space.

‘SHERLOCK!’

John’s voice sounded both angry and upset and Sherlock shouted back in response.

‘Alright, dammit, I’m coming.’

A couple of seconds later John appeared at the end of the corridor still wearing his green Parker coat and when he saw Molly some of the stress went out of his face and he came forward to help.

‘You found her. Where was she?’

‘In a priest hole in the disused dining room. I need to text the others.’ He let John take Molly’s weight, missing feeling her against his side the moment she was gone. He withdrew his phone and texted Lestrade and Mrs Hudson and as he did he saw some twitter notifications on the banner of his phone and he frowned.

**Reports in of death of Hat Detective’s friend DCI Lestrade**

**#RIPLestrade**

**Can’t believe it says colleague Donovan #RIPLestrade**

At that he changed tack and rang Lestrade’s number.

‘Hey Sherlock, have you found her?’

‘Yes, she’s safe. Get back here as soon as you can.’

He felt no small relief at hearing Greg’s voice but as that subsided it was replaced with a rising anger at what was happening. He was being played and he didn’t like it...not one bit!

Mrs Hudson, having heard the commotion, met them in the kitchen and started to fuss over Molly. She was soon wrapped up in a fleece and sat in front of the Aga which was lit and warm. The older woman was busy making them all coffee when John turned on Sherlock.

‘Please, please tell me it wasn’t you, you fucking arse!’

At that the three other occupants looked at John in surprise.

‘Whatever happened to you John I can assure you it wasn’t me; I was too busy looking for Molly. Why don’t you stop wasting my time and just tell me what happened, though to be honest it’s fairly obvious.’

John looked like he wanted to punch his best friend and he took in a deep breath as he tried to calm himself. ‘If you’re so fucking sure why don’t you tell me.’

Sherlock shrugged. ‘Given the fact that we each expressed our fears in the pub the other night and that they are, in part, starting to come true I’d say you were chased in the woods by a big dog...at least you thought you were. Once again I suspect you were easily fooled.’

‘You...’ John lunged forward with his fist formed and would seemingly have tried to punch Sherlock if at that moment he hadn’t been interrupted by Sarah coming into the room.

She was rubbing her wet hair with a towel and when she saw John she smiled. ‘Oh good, you’re back. What happened? Did you find Molly?’

John fell back and turned to face his girlfriend but he still didn’t look calm.

‘I didn’t, Sherlock did. But what the hell happened to you? I was worried half to death when I couldn’t find you.’

‘I stopped to tie my shoe lace and when I looked up you’re gone. I couldn’t get any signal to call you and I figured it would be safer if I came back here. Anyway, it was cold and dark so I decided to have a shower to warm up.’

John looked like he was about to start an argument with her when they were interrupted by Greg returning. As he came in through the front door he called out.

‘Fucking hell, have you guys seen the news?’

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Ten minutes later and they were all sat around the kitchen table nursing their coffees whilst Sherlock explained what’s was going on.

‘As I said the fears we all confessed to in the pub are being acted out. Molly said she was claustrophobic and she’s put into a priest hole. John was scared of being chased by a big dog so the person doing this played dog sounds in the woods when he realised John was searching there. Greg is scared of dying and suddenly reports of his death are announced in the news.’

‘And do you know who is doing this?’ Greg asked.

Sherlock nodded, his face tight. The anger that he’d felt earlier hadn’t dissipated. They’d put his Molly in danger, frightened her, and he had a hankering to just punch them...just as John had wanted to do to him earlier.

‘I do. In fact, I think it’s about time I confronted them.’

He stood and started to make his way out of the kitchen. Lestrade and John stood at the same time.

‘Listen, have you got any solid evidence yet?’

‘No, but maybe I can persuade him to confess.’

There was something very cold about the way that Sherlock said that and Lestrade held his hands up. ‘You know I can’t be part of anything physical and I’d suggest you find a different way.’

‘Boring. John?’

John let out a wry snort of laughter. ‘Just try and stop me.’

The two men left the room and the others heard them leave the house a moment later.

Greg fell back into his seat and shook his head. ‘Brilliant, just fucking brilliant.’

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

Molly had listened to everything that had been said in something of a haze. Once the adrenaline rush of being trapped and getting out had worn off she had just felt exhausted and cold. It had been nice having Mrs Hudson take charge, wrapping her up in front of the fire in the Aga, pressing a hot chocolate into her hands.

After Sherlock and John had left she had sat and listened whilst Greg phoned his family and work to assure them of his continued existence. He’d finally sat back down and washed a hand over his face.

‘I have to admit guys that I was pretty spooked when I first read those reports. They said I’d had a tragic, but suspicious, accident here at the house and I almost had to pinch myself to prove I was still alive and wasn’t a ghost in denial. This git, whoever he or she is, certainly knows how to press our buttons. Not sure if I want Sherlock and John to catch up with them or not. Having them punched would be satisfying but the paperwork will be a nightmare.’

He took a deep breath and then turned to Molly. ‘You’re quiet Molls, are you OK?’

She turned to him and gave him what she knew was a wan smile and she shrugged. ‘Not really. I can’t say that it was fun waking up in what felt like a glorified coffin. It was all my worst nightmares rolled into one and it was all I could do not to fall apart. I’m just...god I’m just so glad that Sherlock found me. I just wish...’

She stopped herself and bit her lip as she remembered back to kissing Sherlock. She still couldn’t quite believe she’d done that but she had just been so relieved and so glad to be out of there that she had just acted on instinct.

‘Just wish what Molly?’

Mrs Hudson brought her back to the present with her question and she knew she must be blushing just at the thought of what she had done.

She sank her head down onto her arms, resting on the table. ‘Oh God, it’s just too embarrassing.’

Greg gave a slight laugh and she felt Mrs Hudson rubbing her back. ‘Come on dear, it probably isn’t that bad...what happened?’

Molly lifted her head back up and covered her face with her hands for a moment as she leant on her elbows.

‘Just don’t laugh...I...I kissed Sherlock. It was all just such a rush...I was so relieved to be out and he was just there and holding me and...God, what must he think?’

She looked around and saw Mrs Hudson and Sarah looking quite shocked, but Greg looked confused.

‘What? Why are you looking like that?’

He tilted his head and frowned at her. ‘Well...why is kissing him such a big deal? I mean you are dating...or have you just not got to that bit yet? I can imagine him being quite slow in that department.’

Now it was Molly’s turn to feel and look confused. ‘Dating? What do you mean that we’re dating?’

‘Well, Sherlock told me last night...in the bar. Has he not asked you out?’

Molly racked her brains until she remembered the previous day when he’d talked about them going dancing.

‘Oh...well yes he did, kind of. I must admit I didn’t think he’d be thinking of it as a date. Are you sure that’s what he meant? I mean...come on, according to John this is Sherlock “I’m married to my work” Holmes.’

Greg shrugged and stood up, picking up his empty cup. ‘I’m pretty sure. I asked him outright and he said he’d asked you out and in his view the two of you were officially dating. All I can say, Molly, is good luck ‘coz you’ll probably need it. Now, shall we crack on with this evening meal?’

He looked towards Sarah whilst he said the latter and she must have agreed because Molly was aware of them starting to move around the kitchen pulling ingredients out of cupboards and the fridge. She knew she ought to offer to help but her mind was too busy picking over everything that Greg had said. Could Sherlock actually have meant it as a date when he talked about them going dancing? Could he really not have minded when she kissed him earlier?

She thought back to just how good that kiss had been and she had to acknowledge that he had had plenty of opportunity to end it but he hadn’t. If she remembered rightly he had not only actively participated but now she came to think of it she recalled how he had reacted when she had pulled lightly on his curls.

She smiled happily to herself and was only distracted when Mrs Hudson bumped her with her elbow. ‘Look at you. You look like the cat that’s got the cream.’

She smiled up at the older woman. ‘You know; I feel like it as well. Do you think that Greg is right? Could Sherlock have feelings for me or am I fooling myself?’

Mrs Hudson shrugged. ‘There’s more going on in that boy’s head and heart than most people give him credit for. I used to think it was John he had feelings for but he’s been talking about you more and more and you have to admit he visits Barts more times than he needs to.’

Molly thought back over the last few months and had to agree that Mrs Hudson was right; he had visited Barts nearly every day that she’d been in. He’d often just watch her carrying out an autopsy asking questions as she did, or he’d be at his microscope whilst she was doing paperwork.

All of a sudden Molly couldn’t wait to see him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Sherlock’s secret (?) is out…we knew it wouldn’t be that long before Molly found out what he’s said to Greg. What do you think she should do now?


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well we all knew that Greg was going to spill the beans at some point. The question is now...what will Molly do with this information. What would you do? (And I e already had some saying she should jump his bones :))
> 
> Shall we see?

It was fully dark and Molly was setting the kitchen table for the dinner that was almost ready when they heard the front door opening and the voices of John and Sherlock as they came in.

The two men appeared to be arguing.

‘...irrational fear of a place that’s just ridiculous.’

‘It might be ridiculous to you Sherlock but it isn’t to me and I will not be stepping foot in that wood again...not tonight, not ever.’

‘But he’s out there and if there is some secret passageway into this house that’s where we’ll find it.’

‘Then you’ll find it with Greg tomorrow but you sure as hell won’t be finding it with me.’

They burst into the kitchen and seemed surprised to see the others almost ready to sit down and eat.

John relaxed first shrugging off his coat and giving Sarah a quick kiss on the cheek; though Molly noticed it looked a bit forced. ‘Something smells delicious.’

She also saw Sherlock scowling and she gave him a shy smile, feeling her stomach flip over at the sight of him. She felt like a nervous school girl. ‘Hey, how did it go? I take it you didn’t find him or her? Who even is it?’

Sherlock threw his coat onto a bench and picked up an open bottle of red wine, pouring himself a glass. ‘It’s the nephew of the woman who owned this house prior to Mrs Hudson’s sister buying it. He’s the one I said came back after it was sold and is angry with his family for doing that. He’s carrying out these “hauntings” to get Janet to sell up and no doubt sell more cheaply than she ought to. He’ll then buy it back.’

John picked up the story. ‘We went to his current home in the village but there was no sign of him there, or in the pub. Sherlock reckons he’s either here, hidden in the house, or he’s in the woods and I was just making it perfectly fucking clear that I am not going back out there. Anyway, I’m starving.’

Sherlock took a swig of his wine and rolled his eyes. ‘Of course you’re are.’

‘Yes, because I’m an actual human being and not a machine.’

Molly saw them starting to square up against each other and found herself stepping in between them.

‘John’s right, it’s late and the food is almost ready. Why don’t you join us for dinner...I bet you didn’t have any lunch and I know you didn’t have much for breakfast.’

Sherlock huffed. ‘Food’s boring.’ But she could tell by the way his shoulders relaxed that any fight had gone out of him.

She smiled. ‘Maybe...but you still need it and it does smell good. Greg and Sarah have been cooking up a storm whilst you two have been out. Come on.’

She put her hand on the back of one of the chairs and gestured to the one next to her for Sherlock and she couldn’t help how happy she felt when he complied and came and chose that chair next to hers. The rest followed and they were soon all happily eating and drinking and swapping theories about how their assailant was getting into the house and how he might have gone about leaking the fake news about Lestrade’s death.

On top of doing the cooking Sarah, Molly and Mrs Hudson had decorated the room with some Halloween bunting and carved out a couple of pumpkins which were now helping to light up the room with the candles inside them. Even though Molly had just gone through one of the worst experiences of her life she just couldn’t bring herself to feel down or worried. Sat here listening to her friends, with a glass of wine in her hand and Sherlock by her side, she just felt a warmth and a contentedness that she knew was more than half fuelled by the hope that Greg had given her.

Sherlock was leaning back in his chair and expanding on his theories about how and where the secret entry points into the house were and Molly found herself wanting to do something to test out what Greg had said. But what? It couldn’t be anything overt given they were in company. Maybe it was the wine talking but in the end she couldn’t resist putting her hand onto his thigh.

She heard his voice falter slightly and his eyes slid sideways to her momentarily but rather than reaching to remove her hand he let her leave it there and it gave her such a rush. She could feel the warmth of him beneath her palm, the solid strength of his muscle, and she started to move her fingers in small circles over the smooth material of his trousers.

She barely heard any of the conversation for the next few minutes. She was just so wrapped up in the fact that Sherlock was letting her touch him in such an intimate way. It only ended when the group decided to move into the front room. They all mucked in to clear away the plates and stack the dishwasher and then they grabbed the wine and their glasses and made their way through. 

This time Molly was less successful and she ended up on the settee with Mrs Hudson and Greg with John, Sarah and Sherlock in the chairs. The room seemed cheerful and alive with conversation and Molly could barely believe it was the same place where she’d felt so scared the night before. It was funny, this weekend should have felt like a nightmare to escape from given everything that had happened to her but she couldn’t help but feel that it was the best weekend away she’d ever had.

Half an hour later and she glanced at her watch surprised to see that it was almost midnight. Sarah must have seen her and did the same only to exclaim, ‘Ooh, it’s almost the witching hour. I can’t believe you’ve actually persuaded me to come to a haunted house on Halloween.’

She giggled but Molly just found herself yawning, the events of the day catching up with her and making her suddenly long for her bed.

Sherlock downed his drink and stood. ‘Right, well that’s me done, I’m off.’

There was a bit of nodding around the room as the others started to finish their drinks but Molly felt a bit of confusion about where she ought to go. She knew she should just try and sleep in with Mrs Hudson again but she also knew that wasn’t where she wanted to be. It seemed that Sherlock had the same view.

‘Are you coming Molly?’

She bit her lip as she looked up at him. ‘I...Err...’

He smiled and held out his hand to her. ‘I’m sure you don’t want a repeat of last night especially seeing as Mrs H here has been drinking far more than she ought.’

Mrs Hudson looked confused as she pushed herself to standing. ‘Have I missed something here?’

‘Always Mrs Hudson...always. Well? Molly?’

She smiled shyly as she put her hand in his and allowed him to help her stand and she followed him up the stairs.

As they went into his bedroom she had a sudden bout of nerves. What exactly was she doing here? Had she misinterpreted everything?

‘I’m surprised you want me to share your room again.’

He frowned a little as he replied. ‘Are you? I thought it was obvious that that was what you wanted.’

She felt a little bewildered until he pointed at the bed. 

‘I’m assuming it was you that left your nightwear here...bit of a giveaway clue.’

She wandered over. It was definitely her nightdress. ‘But I...I didn’t put this here.’

She felt him walk up behind her. ‘You didn’t? Are you sure?’

‘Yes, I’m quite sure. I left it on my bed downstairs.’

She couldn’t help but notice his face drop slightly. 

‘So does that mean you don’t want to sleep with me?’

Her heart beat picked up a notch at his wording but she still felt a lack of clarity. When he said “sleep with me” was that literal or a euphemism?

Either way she knew what her answer was and she decided to be brave, after all it had worked downstairs. She turned and took a step closer to him and placed her hand on his chest.

‘No, I do...I really, really do.’

She saw his expression soften, a small smile playing on his lips as he put a hand on her hip and pulled her closer still.

‘Molly.’ His voice was barely a whisper but it sent shudders through her body. He was going to kiss her, she could read it in every movement of his face and body. She licked her lips and leant up to meet him, her eyes fluttering shut, waiting for the moment that his lips met hers. She could feel his breath on her face, his hand tightening on her hip and his other sliding into her hair and cupping her face but just at that moment there was a scream from downstairs.

They jumped apart and both started to move towards the door. That was no ghostly or recorded scream it was very recognisably Mrs Hudson.

Just as with the night before John was leaving his room at the same time as they did and the three of them ran down the stairs to the older woman’s room. 

Greg had beat them to it and was leading her out and Molly could see just how shaken up Mrs Hudson looked.

‘What is it?’ Sherlock barked at Lestrade.

He answered, his face dark with anger. ‘The bed...you’ll see. It’s just cruel...this guy’s a right bastard. Come on, let’s get you a brandy.’

They made their way into the room and Molly flinched as she saw what had been done. Mrs Hudson had obviously thrown back the covers ready to climb into bed but their tormentor had hidden at least a dozen spiders under the duvet and sheet. They were crawling over the pillows and her night things, some now dropping onto the floor where John ground them up under his heel.

‘She could have had a heart attack Sherlock. This isn’t funny any more.’

Sherlock rounded on him. ‘Did I ever say it was funny?’

Before they could continue their argument though there was another cry, this time from upstairs.

John rolled his eyes. ‘For God’s sake...what now?’

They all made their way back out of the room and up the stairs. Molly felt like she was trapped in a ridiculous farce of a horror film running from one crisis to another. 

This time it was Sarah coming out of the bathroom looking white as a sheet. She fell into John’s arms. 

‘What? What was it?’

‘I saw her...in there...dressed in white. She...she pointed at me...t.told me I was wrong.’

Sherlock moved passed the couple and into the bathroom and Molly followed him. She could hear Sarah telling John that she wouldn’t stay a moment longer.

Sherlock was scouring the bathroom until he honed in on a small black box, barely an inch squared, fixed to the wall opposite the mirror. The mirror itself was fogged up with steam and Molly could see the imprint of a hand in the bottom right hand corner and she pointed it out to Sherlock.

‘Easy enough to have left that prior to Sarah coming in...the mirror then fogs up and shows the handprint. And this here...it’s a small projector.’

He fiddled with it and a moment later Molly saw the ghostly vision of a small child projected onto the mirror. He was grey and wearing old fashioned, ragged clothing and he slowly held his hand out beseechingly.

Molly shivered and grimaced. She wasn’t surprised it had scared Sarah.

Sherlock took a penknife out of his pocket and prised the box off the wall

‘Come on.’

He and Molly made their way back down into the kitchen where the others were all gathered. Their voices quieted as Sherlock made his way in and threw the projector onto the table. He explained what it was and John picked it up and examined it.

‘I don’t care what it was I’m not staying.’

Sarah’s voice was firm and soon joined by Mrs Hudson. ‘I have to agree. I’m sorry Sherlock. I know this is what he wants, for us all to flee, but my heart can’t take another shock like that.’

Greg had been tapping on his phone. ‘I’ve ordered a cab. There’s a Bed and Breakfast just five miles from here. I think it might be best if we transferred ourselves there. Staying here is just too risky...we don’t know who or what we’re dealing with and I for one don’t want to take the risk.’

Sherlock huffed. ‘John, you’ll stay.’

John looked up and slowly shook his head. ‘Sorry Sherlock, I need to go with Sarah. I’ll be back in the morning.’

One by one they were all deserting him and Molly could see a sadness in Sherlock’s eyes. He turned to her.

‘Molly?’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, what do you think? Should she stay or should she go?


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, hey you guys. How are we all today? Hope you’re starting to get into the Christmas spirit because I know I am. I can also confirm that my Christmas fic is almost finished and I’ll be starting to post it as soon as we’re finished with this one…hope that’s good news.
> 
> I should be cracking on with work but I’m taking a few minutes out to get this out for you, hope you enjoy it.

It took less than a heartbeat but there was no decision to make.

‘I’m staying.’

She saw the flash of both relief and concern wash over his face and she felt her heart swell.

‘Are you sure Molly? It would be safer for you if you went with the others.’

She shook her head feeling even more determined. ‘No, I’m not leaving you.’

He narrowed his eyes and seemed to be pondering something but then he gave a quick nod of his head. ‘OK, then you stay with me the whole time...do you understand? You don’t leave my side. He wants me to be alone and he’ll do anything to achieve that. And I can’t lose you Molly.’

She nodded her head and saw the confused look on John’s face as he looked between them.

‘Have I missed something?’

‘Later John, if you’re going go now...Molly and I will sort out the spiders whilst you all pack.’

Molly shuddered and scrunched up her face. ‘We will?’

But he had already set off for her old bedroom and she hurried to catch him up. She shuddered even more when he started scooping up the creepy crawlies with his hands as she found a glass and some card so she could help him.

‘Molly...scared of spiders? Really? You cut up dead bodies for a living.’

He chuckled and she scowled back at him. ‘Yes and on the whole those bodies don’t start scurrying across my living room floor. I’m not scared as such...just...not a fan.’

Half an hour later and they watched as the others drove away in the taxi and then they turned and made their way back into a now very quiet and eerie feeling house. It was well past midnight and Molly was exhausted but she got the feeling that she wasn’t going to get any sleep anytime soon and not for fun reasons.

‘So, what now?’

She turned to Sherlock who looked down on her and she saw something shift in his eyes and it made her blush and feel shy all of a sudden.

‘Now, we finish what we were going to do upstairs Molly.’

He cupped her face in one large hand, leant down and kissed her.

His lips pressed against her own and she opened her mouth to him letting him deepen the kiss as he pulled her closer. In that moment she forgot all about the hauntings and the tricks and harassments. Her whole world just narrowed down to her and Sherlock and the fact that he was kissing her.

Her hands slid up from his shirt to wrap around his neck and she could feel his body pressed up against her own and it was sending all sorts of signals down into to her very soul until she was moaning into his mouth and wishing they were closer to a bed.

Eventually they had to separate and he leant his forehead against her own as he tried to get his breathing back under control and she loved how affected he was. When he spoke his voice was low, barely a whisper. 

‘God, Molly, I wish we could do more but he’s here somewhere...maybe even watching us right now...’

That had her pulling back and looking around them and just as she did everything went black as the lights switched off and the house was plunged into darkness.

She clutched at Sherlock even as he started to pull away from her.

‘We need to get some light...come on.’

She took a deep breath and loosened her hold on him taking his hand instead so he could guide them back towards the kitchen. Thankfully, now her eyes had adjusted somewhat there was just enough moonlight coming through the windows to help them see where they were going.

Once in the kitchen Sherlock searched through the drawers until he found a torch. He let out a quiet ‘thank God’ when he switched it on and a wide beam of light lit up the room. 

‘Let’s just check the fuse box. I suspect whatever he’s done will have disabled it but it’s worth looking.’

They found it in the utility room off the kitchen and near the back door but just as Sherlock had thought the fuses had been removed completely.

Just at that moment an unearthly howl echoed through the house emanating from the top floor and Sherlock let out a huff. ‘Better go and see what he’s done now. Come on, and as I said stay right by me.’

They made their way up the stairs with the torch light bouncing around in front of them, stretching out shadows and casting strange shapes. Molly could almost feel the darkness behind her as if it were a live, visceral thing. She had no issue with staying close to Sherlock.

Another cry echoed through the house and they could tell it was coming from John and Sarah’s bedroom. Sherlock flung open the door and they were confronted by the sight of what looked like blood dripping down the wall behind the bed.

The torch light swung back and forth as Sherlock searched the room for any sign of their tormentor but unsurprisingly the room was empty bar themselves.

He made his way over to the wall and touched the liquid and Molly saw him sniff it and rub it between his fingers. It looked very dramatic running down the wall in thick rivulets and Molly asked Sherlock how it had been done.

He shrugged and glanced up. I suspect he’s drilled small holes up near the coving and then he’s piped animal blood through. Simple but effective.

There was a sudden click and a whoosh from behind them and before Molly could even turn a knife sliced through the air just to one side of her and hit Sherlock.

‘Ahh....shit...’

The torch fell to the floor and she screamed and lurched forwards trying to see how badly he was injured but without the light she couldn’t see anything. She dropped to the floor and scrambled to catch the torch which had rolled under the bed.

As she did she called up to him. ‘Sherlock, are you alright?’

She heard him sit down heavily...or had he collapsed...onto the bed and only felt some relief when he replied.

‘Yes, I’m OK. I think it was a glancing blow, it wasn’t sharp enough to actually embed itself. Designed more to frighten than to injure.’

By now she’d caught hold of the rubber sleeve of the torch and she stood back up and washed the light over Sherlock. 

He was holding his arm up and she saw that whilst his shirt had been torn and there was a spreading darkness of blood on its edges the actual wound was more of a gash and certainly not deep.

‘Come on let’s get you back downstairs and find a first aid kit.’ 

He shook his head and brushed her hand away. ‘It’s nothing. I’ve had worse.’

She was about to protest when there was another crash, this time from the corridor housing some of the older, unused, rooms.

Molly left the room feeling Sherlock hard on her heel as she ran towards the noise but before she could enter the corridor to that part of the house he grabbed her and pointed down the stairs. 

‘It’s a distraction, come on.’

He took the light and instead ran down the stairs. Molly followed but he was too fast and she felt the darkness seeping around her as he moved ahead with the torch light and it only got worse as he ran into the kitchen.

As soon as he’d turned the corner the hallway reverted to pitch black...even the moonlight had gone, maybe lost behind the clouds momentarily. Molly had to slow her speed in the absence of any light and all of her others senses rose to high alert. 

As she reached the bottom of the stairs she heard a noise from her right and before she could even scream she felt an arm around her waist and another over her mouth. Whoever it was was strong enough to bodily lift her and he started to carry her towards the older part of the house.

Molly used her nails to tear at the skin on the hand over her mouth and she heard her assailant swear but he didn’t let go. Just as she started to lose hope though there was a wash of torch light and she heard Sherlock shouting her name and running towards them. 

Whoever had hold of her immediately dropped her and pushed her hard so she fell against Sherlock blocking him from following.

He managed to catch her before she hit the floor and as she got her balance she pushed him away. ‘Go...get him...I’ll catch you up.’

She saw him nod quickly and then he was off chasing down the corridor and after taking a quick breath she made her way after him. He ducked right into the room with all the boxes and by the time Molly caught up she could see the torchlight disappearing into what looked like a black hole. 

Every part of her was screaming at her to stop, to let Sherlock go on alone but she couldn’t, she wouldn’t abandon him. So instead she girded herself and she plunged in after him. She had to almost crouch to get through the gap in the panelling but once through the tunnel opened up so she could stand without hitting her head. It immediately descended downwards and she held onto the walls as she slithered her way down, barely able to see where she was putting her feet, wishing she had a torch of her own.

After about 50 metres it started to level out. Thankfully Sherlock was now going slower and it didn’t take her long to catch him up. They were in a long dark corridor and she could see that it was roughly hewn out of stone. The floor was smooth from centuries of use, wherever this led to it had once been well used. 

They could see a light bobbing in the distance sometimes disappearing as the tunnel turned and twisted and Molly could hear their assailant’s footsteps slapping on the stone and echoing back towards them. But no matter how fast they went he was getting away from them. He just knew the terrain better and could go quicker.

Molly could feel her heart racing in her chest, her breathing getting ragged as she tried to keep up. But she had to admit that even through the fear it was exhilarating. No wonder John enjoyed working with Sherlock. 

There was a shout from up ahead and more lights could be seen bouncing off the walls and moving around and Molly couldn’t understand what was happening. All she knew was that there was more than one person up ahead and fear flooded through her at what they might be heading towards. She’d assumed this man was working alone but maybe she was wrong...maybe Sherlock was...what if there were more of them? They’d be outnumbered, she wasn’t a fighter and Sherlock would be on his own.

She pulled at his arm trying to slow him. ‘Wait, Sherlock...stop.’

He loosened her hold though and started to run. Fear flooded through her as she started to lag behind him. She urged her muscles to work harder trying to catch him up...not wanting him to confront whoever it was alone but not knowing what she’d be able to do to help him. She wished she’d had the foresight to bring some kind of weapon. 

There was a shout, a sharp cry, and she could hear scuffling. She couldn’t quite make out who was shouting or what was happening and it had her running even though she could barely see anything. She had to help Sherlock, no matter what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our Molly is no coward is she…heading straight into the fight. But who or what is waiting for her? Oh and let’s not forget we’ve had another kiss.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, hey everyone. I’m going into my last full week in work and I’m starting to countdown the hours until I break for Christmas. I don’t know about you lot but I’m in need on this break this year.   
> I also need to get a wriggle on and finish posting this story so I can get on and start the next one so you can expect the last two chapters over the next few days.
> 
> We left Molly determined to head into the melee and do her best to help Sherlock. Shall we see if he needs it. (Either way our Molly is brave).

As she reached the entrance to the tunnel a torch light was flashed in her eyes and she had to squint and hold up her hand at the sheer brightness of it.

A hand grabbed her arm and she tried to pull away from it hitting them with her other hand until she heard John calling out her name.

‘Molly, Molly it’s OK. It’s me...John.’

The light tilted to one side out of her eyes and she saw John looking at her with concern. She turned her head to see what was going on around her and she saw Greg along with a couple of PCs holding onto to a middle aged man who was struggling and looking furious. Sherlock was talking to Greg who was nodding and then a moment later Sherlock turned and when he saw her he made his way over.

‘Are you alright?’

John let go of her arm and all she could do was slap Sherlock as hard as she could.

‘You bastard. You knew...you used me as bait and you knew they’d be here waiting. Was it all just a lie?’

She knew he knew what she meant and he brought his hands up placatingly. ‘I’m sorry Molly, you were never in any real danger I promise. I was waiting for him to attack you...I needed to get him out in the open and this was the only way.’

She turned away from him and took a few staggering steps into the woods breathing heavily and she tried to get her emotions under control. Had he just used her the whole time? Kissing her to have her compliant. She felt sick and leant over with her hands on her knees.

Sherlock had been called back over by Greg and so it was John who came to see how she was.

‘I’m just tired John, can I go? Is there someone who can take me?’

‘Of course, you’re in shock and we need to get you warm.’

He called over one of the police officers and asked if he could drive them to the guest house. He went and told Sherlock whilst Molly followed the officer to the car. She glanced back and saw Sherlock looking over at her with a look of concern on his face but she didn’t want to talk to him...she didn’t want to even see him. He made her sick.

Thankfully the journey wasn’t long. It seemed that the tunnel from the house ran through the hill and came out at the other side of the woods closest to the village.

It was John who confirmed it. ‘It would have been a shorter route to the village, well used in previous years. He’d covered up the entry point but Sherlock and I found it this afternoon. I have to admit I wasn’t that keen on going back into the woods but...well...we have to confront our fears don’t we. We put on that show at the house in case he was listening to us somehow.’

Molly nodded numbly. She followed John into the bed and breakfast and just listened as he booked her room and guided her up there.

‘Get yourself warm and get some sleep Molly. I’ll call for you in the morning. OK?’

She just nodded again, her arms wrapped around herself physically holding her emotions inside. 

He gave her a small smile and kissed her on the cheek.

‘It will be alright, I know it will Molly. He’s an arse but...but I know he cares about you.’ He nodded, as if to himself. ‘Yes, I’m sure of it.’

It was of little consolation to Molly though. 

She let herself into the room, barely aware of her surroundings. She stripped off until she was just in her t shirt and a pair of knickers and then she wrapped herself up in the duvet. The only bright point was that she was so exhausted, physically and emotionally, that she was asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

......

She slept like the proverbial log but when she woke it was still dark outside...the downside of Autumn. It was immediately apparent though that she was no longer alone in the bed. Instead there was a warm body wrapped around her own. Her back pressed against his chest and his arm lying loosely over her waist.

She instinctively knew it was Sherlock. In fact, when she took a breath through her nose she could smell the faint remains of his cologne. She moved her hand to her thigh and then to his body and she realised with a jolt that he was either naked or almost so given that her hand was on his bare leg.

At her touch he shifted slightly, his arm tightening around her and she slowly became aware that she could feel his erection against her backside. Arousal and confusion flooded through her in equal measure and she turned over in his arms so that she could see his face.

‘Sherlock?’

His lip quirked up into a slight smile. ‘Shh...I’m sleeping.’

‘How the hell did you get in here?’

She saw him shrug. ‘I told the landlady that I was your husband.’

‘And she believed you...that’s all it took?’

‘Well, I may have had ID.’

Now she was thoroughly confused. ‘ID? How could you have ID?’

He took a deep breath and opened his eyes and she felt that lust from earlier curling through her body as he gazed at her sleepily.

‘I’ve used the pseudonym William Hooper for a few years...nice and nondescript, but very handy this morning. Anyway are these really the questions you want to be asking me right now Molly?’

He slid his hand down her side until he reached the edge of her t shirt and then she could feel his warm palm low on her back and it had her mind spiralling.

‘I...I thought it was all a sham, that you were just using me.’

He bent his head and nuzzled her neck, his leg sliding between her own and her breath caught in her throat and she had to bite back a moan.

‘I apologise Molly. I should have told you what the plan was, I assume people are brighter than they are and know what seems so obvious to me.’

He kissed her neck and she could feel his hands slowly sliding up her back, rucking up the material of her t shirt and she had to concentrate to keep herself on track. She needed him to be honest about his feelings not some stupid plan to catch a criminal.

‘Thanks for the insult but that’s not what I’m talking about. Why are you here...in this bed...with me?’

‘Is it not obvious?’ He rocked his hips towards her and she felt his erection against her hip and this time she did let out a low moan but it still wasn’t enough.

‘No, Sherlock...it’s not obvious. I know you want sex but I don’t know how...how you feel about me...about us?’

He lifted his head and she could see his eyes once more, the light in the room was turning everything, including him, into lighter shades of grey and she felt captured by his gaze.

‘Have I not said it yet? I love you Molly, I’ve been in love with you for years but I only really realised it in that damned phone call. I’ve been coming to terms with it ever since and I can’t wait any longer...I need to be with you. And I don’t just mean now, in this moment, I need to be with you from now until death parts us. Is that enough for you?’

Molly just nodded mutely, her throat felt tight with emotion and her heart was thudding in her chest. With just a few short sentences he’d given her more than she could ever have hoped for. It was almost more than she could take in.

She saw his eyes close as he bent his head to hers and she gave in to his kiss, relishing the feel of his lips against her own. It wasn’t long before they deepened it and she finally let her hands move against his body, sliding up his back and feeling his muscles underneath that thin layer of skin.

He shifted his body so he was lying more over her and she could feel him hard against her core and she started to feel her endless desire for him unfurling deep inside her. She had wanted him for so long and her mind was struggling to catch up with the fact that he actually wanted her. 

His hand moved up her body under her t shirt until she could feel his thumb brushing against the underneath of her breast and she found herself moaning into his mouth and pressing herself closer to him. She wanted to feel what it was like to be joined with him, to be so intimately connected she didn’t know where he ended and she began...but it wasn’t to be.

There was a sudden knock on the door which made Molly jump. 

‘Molly, it’s John. Breakfast is about to be served.’

Sherlock shouted back angrily and sarcastically. ‘Bugger off John. You’re timing as ever is impeccable.’

‘Sherlock!’

The shock in John’s voice made Molly giggle and she pushed Sherlock away slightly, starting to sit up. The moment had been lost and she knew there was no way they’d be carrying on knowing that John would know what they were doing.

‘We’ll be down in five John, thank you.’ She shouted.

Sherlock turned to her scowling. ‘We will?’

She smiled and put her hands either side of his face, pulling him to her for a chaste kiss. ‘Yes, we will. Anyway, I probably need to get my head around us first before we go any further.’

He scowled making her giggle once more. ‘And how long will that take? I’m not a very patient man when I make my mind up about something.’

She shrugged. ‘Who knows...you’ll just have to wait and see.’ Deep down though she knew it wouldn’t be very long at all, not after the way he’d been making her feel.

She got dressed whilst Sherlock had a quick, cold shower and ten minutes later they made their way down to the small dining room in a heated conservatory on the back of the house. Greg arrived about the same time as them and they greeted him and the others as they all gathered around a large table which had been set up in the middle. There weren’t many other people in there given the time of year so their group had taken up most of the rooms in the small guest house.

The owner was fussing around taking orders for teas, coffees and cooked breakfast as well as directing them to the small offering of cereals and juices so it was a few minutes before they were able to talk freely.

It was Molly who spoke first. ‘So, come on...tell me everything. What happened after I left you all last night?’

Greg responded first. ‘We got him down to the station in the town nearby. He pretty much admitted everything once he’d been arrested and interviewed. It was just like Sherlock had said. He was hoping to frighten Mrs Hudson’s sister out of the house so he could buy it cheap. Mainly it was for sentimental purposes but he also admitted that there had always been some talk of family treasure hidden in the property and he wanted to be the one to find it...I rather think that was a myth though but who knows.’

Mrs Hudson smiled and leant forward. ‘Ooh, I’ll have to tell Janet, maybe she’ll uncover it when she does her restoration work. How exciting?’

Greg carried on. ‘His statement didn’t quite answer all the questions though. The main one was over the image that Sarah here had seen. He swore blind that the recovered projector showed a young lad not a woman in white but he just laughed when we questioned him about it and refused to say more.’

The owner had come back over with their teapots and coffees and she looked at Greg curiously. ‘Are you talkin’ about Pondicherry Lodge by any chance?’

Greg nodded.

‘Well, if you’ve seen a woman in white that’ll be Audrina.’

Sherlock narrowed his eyes. ‘And who exactly is Audrina?’

‘She’s the ghost there. Been there for years she has...it was the mid 1800s when she died. Word has it she was getting ready for her wedding, dead excited she was, but as she made her way down the stairs to her true love she caught her foot in the dress and fell to the bottom dying instantly. She’s been seen ever since. Has a thing about getting thwarted lovers together by moving items of theirs into the others bedrooms.’

At that statement Molly glanced at Sherlock and saw him frowning.

‘She also tries to split up them that shouldn’t be together by frightening one of them. So if one of you has seen ‘er you shouldn’t be with whoever you’re with.’

She chuckled as she looked around the table missing John’s scowl and the way Sarah was biting her lip. 

‘Anyway, I’ll go get your cooked breakfasts.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it looks like there really was a ghost as well as the guy pretending to be one. I didn’t quite manage to work in him saying ‘I would have got away with it if it wasn’t for those pesky kids’ but I’m sure that’s what he was thinking when he was caught at the end of the tunnel.
> 
> Just a couple more chapters to go and we’ll be done. Hope you liked the big reveal and Sherlock’s declaration xx


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so glad you all liked the last chapter and even though Sherlock was a bit of an arse at the start it seems he redeemed himself with his declaration. Anyway, I think it’s time our group thought of heading back to either the lodge or London. Shall we see?
> 
> And is it too early for me to say Happy Christmas? …OK I’ll wait.

Molly had to admit that whilst the breakfast was basic it was delicious and very welcome after all their nighttime activities. 

They discussed what their plans should be now. They’d originally expected to stay on in the lodge until Monday but there was little appetite for it given everything that had happened and in the end they decided to just go back to pack up their remaining belongings and secure the house before heading back to London.

It didn’t stop John from quizzing Molly and Sherlock about their relationship as they were drinking their last cup of coffee around the breakfast table at the guest house.

‘So, you two, are you going to tell the rest of us what’s going on with you?’

Greg leant forward. ‘Why? What have I missed?’

John sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. ‘Sherlock?’

Molly glanced at him nervously wondering what he would say. She wasn’t sure if he’d want to admit to there being anything between them but she knew she’d be more than hurt if he denied anything was going on.

He huffed but then took hold of Molly’s hand where it lay on the table.

‘It’s a simple explanation. I’ve told Molly that I’m in love with her and we’re together. Happy now John?’

John had a grin slowly spread across his face. ‘Yes, I’m very happy for you mate. Never thought you’d actually get your thumb out of your arse enough to admit it.’

Mrs Hudson put her hand over her heart and smiled. ‘Oh Sherlock, that is good news. So, will you be moving in Molly?’

As Molly replied ‘no’, Sherlock replied with a ‘yes’ and the two of them looked at each other in mutual surprise as Greg let out a loud laugh.

‘Looks like you still have some persuading to do there Sherlock. Anyway, good luck to you both. I rather suspect you’ll need it more than Sherlock Molly.’

Sherlock scowled as Molly giggled but she had to admit to feeling happier than she could remember being in years. It was a warm feeling in her chest, a bubble of happiness that seemed almost too much for her body to contain and she knew she’d be grinning for the rest of the day.

She didn’t really get much time alone with Sherlock though until they were back at the lodge and packing up their belongings.

As she zipped up her bag he came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her neck, just below her ear.

‘Come home with me Molly, back to Baker St. I want to finish what we started this morning.’

She put her hands over his and closed her eyes for a moment, relishing being so close to him. She wasn’t sure she was ever going to get used to this...being able to be physical with him.

She turned in his arms and looped her hands around his neck and he bent his head to hers and kissed her.

Just as it had that morning her body was ahead of her brain when it came to her reactions. She pressed herself closer to him, feeling the long, slim length of him against herself. His mouth moved against her own eliciting small moans and she knew she wanted him as much as he apparently wanted her. She wanted to tease him just a little bit longer though.

‘Maybe I will...you’ll just have to keep persuading me.’

She gave him a shy smile and he raised one eyebrow. ‘Challenge accepted Ms Hooper. You may come to regret that.’

With that he picked her up and dropped her onto the bed making her squeal. He chuckled as he crawled over her before kissing her once more. This time she could feel the weight of him pressing down on her. He slid his tongue into her mouth and his hand moved up her side to once again brush against her breast and she couldn’t help but wish that they weren’t clothed and on a time limit. They’d agreed to meet the others downstairs in a few minutes and even now she could hear their taxi pulling up outside.

Just as her arms moved around his back to hold him closer he pulled away and smiled cheekily.

‘Oops, looks like we have to go now Molly...if only we could carry on later...’

She chuckled and let him pull her back up to standing and then they made their way downstairs with their bags.

His teasing didn’t stop there though. As they traveled to the station he had his hand on her thigh, just as she’d done to him the night before, and she had to bite her lip at the feeling of his fingers circling over the material of her jeans...wishing they were on her skin instead.

This time on the train journey they sat together across the aisle from the other four and whilst Molly wondered what teasing he had in store this time she also knew she would probably fall asleep. She really hadn’t had much sleep at all the night before and it was starting to weigh heavily on her. Sherlock must have sensed it because it put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her against his chest. 

‘Go on...sleep...I know you want to and I need to think anyway...I always like to dissect any case after the event to see how I could have solved it quicker.’

She gave him a quick smile as she settled against him; more touched by his thoughtfulness and caring than any of his previous words and actions.

She had her cheek against his shirt and she could smell him; it was a mix of masculinity, cologne and a faint trace of cigarettes but it was quintessentially him. She felt so safe and secure in his arms as she closed her eyes and let the consistent hum of the train lull her into sleep.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH 

Sherlock shifted a little against the window so that Molly would be more comfortable and he smiled to himself. This weekend had progressed perfectly and if anything it was making him wonder just why he had waited as long as he did. He simply hadn’t realised how being with Molly would give him such a sense of peace and completeness.

He glanced down at her and then over at the opposite table and he saw John give him a smile and a thumbs up and he couldn’t help but grin back for a second.

Poor John, he had no idea that Sarah was going to break up with him once they were back in London. He estimated it would be three weeks before she’d be starting a relationship with Lestrade. He doubted John would be too upset though, it was never anything more meaningful than easy sex for both parties.

Thinking of sex had him shifting in his seat once more. He hadn’t realised just how much he had been repressing that side of his nature until he’d decided to release it. He wouldn’t pressure Molly, it had to be at her pace, but dear God he hoped it wouldn’t mean waiting too long.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

Molly’s dreams were filled with Sherlock. He was touching her and holding her and kissing her but each time that she felt close to her orgasm the situation changed. One time they were at Barts, then Baker Street, then the front room at Pondicherry Lodge and by the time she awoke she felt so aroused that she knew there was nowhere else she would be going other than back to his flat. 

She stayed where she was for a minute or so, breathing him in and letting her hand slide slowly over the hard planes of his stomach separated only by the expensive material of his shirt. She felt him let out a groan, hearing it rumbling through his chest and she smiled and glanced up at him. Maybe he wasn’t the only one who could do some teasing.

She let her hand slide down until it was resting on his hip with her thumb brushing against his groin and he shifted under her as his hand moved over hers and pulled it away. 

As she moved to sit up a bit he bent his head until he was whispering in her ear. ‘Molly, you’ve no idea how much I want you to touch me...but God help me I have to be able to get off this train and walk in ten minutes and just thinking about you is making me hard.’

She chuckled and ducked her head...she had never expected to hear Sherlock saying something like that...admitting that she could and was arousing him; it was so amazingly empowering. 

He was right though, nine minutes later they pulled into the train station and they all gathered their belongings and made their way out and through to the taxi rank. Greg was sharing a cab with John and Sarah and as they waited for the next one to pull up Sherlock turned to Molly.

‘So, decision time. Are you coming back to Baker St with us?’

Molly bit her lip but she didn’t really have to make a decision, she’d already decided and she nodded her head.

She saw Mrs Hudson smile knowingly and a slow smile spread across Sherlock’s face as he held his hand out to her. ‘Come on then.’

Thankfully it wasn’t a long cab ride. Molly wondered at herself that she didn’t feel more nervous. She knew, without doubt, that she’d be sleeping with Sherlock...having sex with him. 

She shook her head, it just sounded so strange. She’d been in love with him for so long and she’d honestly thought that the status quo would never change. Maybe she needed to talk to him first, find out how and why things had changed. She caught his eye and smiled and she knew she was colouring up. He was so gorgeous and sexy and smart and she felt like she wanted to pinch herself to check she wasn’t dreaming. That didn’t mean she was going to be his doormat however and she looked away almost giggling to herself as she remembered slapping him the night before. Life with Sherlock was never going to be normal.

As they decanted themselves out onto the street Mrs Hudson opened up the front door and as they made their way through she turned to bid them goodbye.

‘Now, don’t mind me. I’ve got a few shows on the telly to catch up on and the walls and floors are thankfully quite thick in this house so don’t worry yourselves. I’ll see you both tomorrow.’

She kissed Molly on the cheek and patted Sherlock’s arm and then made her way through to her own flat. Molly knew she was blushing at the older woman’s words but Sherlock seemed completely unfazed.

Her nerves finally started to kick in as they made their way into his flat. She suddenly wondered what to do next. Thankfully Sherlock seemed to have no such qualms. He threw his overnight bag onto the coffee table and hung up his overcoat and scarf and then he turned to help Molly with her coat.

He hung it up and then turned to face her and a smile slowly spread across his face as he brought one hand up and gently cupped her face, his thumb lightly brushing across her cheekbone.

‘Molly...’ his voice was low and quiet as he said her name and it sent tendrils of arousal extending out through her body and she stepped towards him as if she was being drawn towards a magnet. Her nerves seemed to vanish in the light of the way he was looking at her. She had never expected to see such a look of both love and desire on his face and it made him look even more handsome than he normally looked. 

She wanted him. She wanted everything that he had to offer her. And she wanted it now, no more delays, no more waiting. After all, she’d been waiting for him for over five years and that was quite long enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I shall only keep you waiting a couple more days for the final chapter…after all time is running out to start the Christmas fic (which knowing me will keep us going into New Year).
> 
> Anyway, I hope you’re all starting to wind down for the holidays. Take care and stay safe x
> 
> (Oh and let me know what you thought of this chapter)


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaannndddd here we are with the final chapter! Whoop, whoop. It seems along time since Halloween so thank you for staying with me. Looks like my Christmas fic might overlap just as badly…I must do better next year.
> 
> Shall we get on with the smut? I’ve kept you waiting with this one…

She felt his hand more firmly on her face as they moved together. He tilted it up and towards him as he bent his own head to meet with hers. His lips felt so soft as they pressed against her own.

Her hands moved to his neck, pulling him closer so she could deepen the kiss, her mouth opening to his and his tongue sliding against her own.

She felt dizzy, unbalanced, and was glad that he felt so solid, anchoring her to the world, even as she felt as if she was floating high above it. In all her fantasies she hadn’t ever really captured the reality of just how good it would be to simply kiss him.

He gave into the kiss completely, holding nothing back. His body pressed against her own as his arm moved around her waist to hold her closer and she could feel her need for him growing. She wanted him naked underneath her so she could see his expression as she coupled with him. It felt almost overwhelming and she moved her hands so she could push his jacket off his shoulders. For a moment it caught on his arms but then he let go of her just long enough to shrug it off and she heard it fall to the floor. She winced on hearing the thud of his phone which must have been in one of his pockets but he didn’t seem to care.

When his hands returned to her it was to the hem of her jumper and this time their lips had to separate as he pulled it up and over her head, throwing it down to meet his jacket.

Her hands were now shakily trying to undo the buttons on his shirt and she cursed at how fiddly they were hearing him chuckle just before his lips caught hers again. He moved her back slightly so she was leaning against his Belstaff, hung up on the wall, and his hands moved to her backside as he ground himself against her. She could feel his erection through their clothes and it had her moaning into his mouth.

She finally managed to undo the last of the buttons and her hands greedily roamed over his naked torso and round to his back. He felt so warm and real. Part of her kept wondering if she was dreaming but he was here...solid...tangible...so physically here.

They had to part to take a breath and he moved away catching her hand and smiling once more as he led her through the kitchen to where she knew his bedroom was. She’d never been in that room and she wondered just what it would be like. 

He paused at the door and turned to her looking thoughtful. ‘Are you sure Molly? I don’t want to pressure you.’

She nodded her head. ‘I’m sure. And you?’

At this he grinned and raised an eyebrow quickly. ‘I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. I only wish I hadn’t waited so long. I’ve been a fool Molly and believe me when I say that that it something I rarely admit to. Forgive me?’

She swallowed heavily, feeling emotional all of a sudden at hearing the sincerity in his voice. ‘Yes...I forgive you. Just...say it again...I need to hear it.’

He seemed to know instinctively what she meant and he shifted closer, his face softening as he held her gaze. ‘I love you Molly Hooper...I think I’ve loved you for far longer than I’ve ever realised.’

She couldn’t stop the smile from playing on her lips at hearing him admit that. ‘I love you too.’

At that he undid the door and pulled her through into his bedroom. She only got a quick glance of it before he pulled her to him for another kiss but it seemed like just the sort of bedroom Sherlock would have...expensive furniture, mahogany wood, masculine and with a bed that looked more than big enough for any activity they wanted to indulge in.

As his tongue slid into her mouth she let her hand move down so she could feel him through his trousers and as she gripped him through the expensive material she both heard and felt him groan. He might put on this cold, hard, logical persona but underneath it all he was still just a man and it was that man that she’d always seen and that she’d always loved.

His hands had been working on the buttons of her shirt and he pushed the thin material off her shoulders and she could feel his palms sliding over her skin and she just wanted more. He moved to undo her bra, cursing for a second when he couldn’t work out the fastening and she giggled as her own hands tried to undo his trousers. 

Finally, he worked it out and he pulled it off her arms, interrupting her own progress with his clothes, and when he’d finished he bent and picked her up, making her squeal in shock, before he turned them both and put her down onto the bed.

As he lay over her she could finally feel his naked chest against her own and her hands were greedy. She wanted to touch and kiss every inch of him. She wanted to know his body as intimately as she knew her own. All those years that she had loved him from afar seemed a distant memory but she knew the wait had been worth it.

She could feel the muscles in his back moving under her palms as he kissed and sucked at the skin of her throat and she found herself wanted to be marked by him. She hadn’t had a love bite since she was a teenager but that was how he made her feel...as if this was her first time all over again.

He lifted himself up slightly on his hands and she missed the feel of him already but as he kissed his way down to her breasts she bit her lip and stared up at the ceiling as she threaded her hands into his curls. She’d always wanted to touch his hair and she was happy to find it was as soft as she’d always imagined.

As his mouth closed over her right nipple she found herself arching her back as her eyes closed and she let out a loud groan. Her body felt on fire for him; the ache between her thighs only partly sated by the feel of his still clothed lower half lying between her legs. He thrust his hips in a mock simulation of sex and the feel of his erection against her core had her internal muscles clenching and unclenching. She was in no doubt that if he continued his assault on her body she’d come without him even needing to enter her.

His hand cupped her breast as his mouth continued to explore her and she loved how possessive it felt. She was his...she’d always been his but now maybe he was hers too and she wanted her own fun.

She pushed lightly on his shoulders and when he looked up at her questioningly she smiled. ‘I want you naked.’

He responded by standing and undoing his trousers and for a moment she watched him before she turned to her own remaining clothes, pulling and pushing at the various bits until she was as naked as he now was. She was surprised that she didn’t feel more shy at being nude in front of him but she just didn’t. He seemed to empower her somehow. The way he looked at her, the raw desire and love in his eyes gave her a level of confidence she had never quite known before.

As he lay back down on the bed Molly sat up so she could look down on him.

‘I...before we do this...are you a...’ she tailed off and bit her lip but he obviously knew what she meant because he shook his head.

‘A virgin? No, but...umm...it has been a while.’

‘How...how long?’

He shrugged and brought his hand up to cup her face once more. ‘Fifteen years maybe...I’m not sure exactly. Let’s just say I wasn’t always drug free. But that doesn’t matter...none of that matters now. You can ask me as many questions as you like later but right now I know what I’d rather be doing.’

He smirked and pulled her towards him until they were kissing again. 

She let her leg hook over his hip and her hand slid over his chest and she could feel the beating of his heart against her ribs. She knew she probably needed to take her time with him given his limited sexual history but her own body was aching for him. 

As the kiss ended she moved over him more so she straddled him and as she kissed her way down his neck she could feel his cock against her core. He felt so damn hard and she couldn’t resist rocking her hips ever so slightly, enjoying just how much it stimulated her. His hands moved to her hips pressing her down even more and they both moaned and gasped at the extra contact and it all just became too much.

Molly shifted herself for a moment so she could reach down between them and she took hold of him, positioning him at her entrance. She paused for a moment and looked into his eyes and she saw him swallow almost nervously before he nodded his head ever so slightly.

She took her time. He was big and she relished the way he started to stretch and fill her; it had been far too long since she’d had sex herself and she could only imagine how it must feel for him in reverse. He’d closed his eyes and she saw him lick his lips and the way his jaw tensed as he got used to the feel of her.

When he was finally fully ensheathed by her body she held herself still for a moment feeling him pulsing inside her until it was too much. She needed to move, had to. She tried to set a slow rhythm but every movement seemed to send shockwaves through her body and she knew she was going to come. Her cries were starting to get louder and Sherlock reacted to them by lifting his head so he could suck and bite her nipple once more and the feel of it seemed to connect directly with her quim pushing her over the edge.

As she orgasmed she took him with her, feeling his hands gripping her hips tightly as he thrust up into her. She wished she could watch his face, she his expression, but she was too lost in her own pleasure which seemed to ripple through her longer than she would have thought possible.

Finally, they both relaxed and he held her tight as she caught her breath; kissing his shoulder and his neck and feeling his kissing the top of her head.

‘God...Molly...that was...’

She lifted her head and grinned. ‘Don’t tell me I’ve made the great Sherlock Holmes speechless.’

He chuckled and kissed her and she knew it wouldn’t be long before she’d be ready for him again but first she needed to clean up and to grab a snack.

And so it was that ten minutes later they were wrapped up together on the bed sharing some toast and drinking cups of tea. It felt so relaxed and so perfect that Molly couldn’t stop smiling. She’d always got on with him and this just felt like such a natural extension to it.

She quizzed him a bit more about the case and how he’d solved it and he answered her happily. He always liked analyzing the details of his cases, it helped him to mentally compartmentalise it and she was always happy to hear him talking.

When he’d finished she only had a couple more question.

‘But what about the other things? Was he the one who moved my necklace? And what about the image that Sarah saw that wasn’t connected to the projector?’

She looked up at Sherlock and saw him frown and bite his lip.

‘Honestly Molly, I don’t think that was him. He swears blind it wasn’t and there was no reason at that point for him to lie. Plus...’

He fell silent and after a few moments she judged him with her elbow. ‘Plus what?’

He glanced down at her and she saw a blush on his cheeks. Was he embarrassed about something?

‘Plus I...I heard something. When you were missing...I heard a voice saying your name and when I got to the dining room it told me you were close...I can’t explain it but I know what I heard.’

He seemed to be waiting for her to ridicule him but she didn’t...she couldn’t.

She put the plate to one side and then turned so she was facing him more, putting her hand on his naked chest and feeling his heart beat under her palm.

‘I felt it too...when I was in that hole...when I was at my lowest. Something, or maybe someone, told me you were coming, I don’t know if it was vocal or just a feeling but it calmed me. It didn’t ever feel malevolent. Do you...do you think it could have been a...’

She couldn’t quite bring herself to say the word ghost but Sherlock seemed to know what she meant.

He shrugged. ‘I’ve long believed that when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth? Before this case I would have said ghosts were an impossibility but now...now maybe I’m open to the idea but no more than that.’

She fell silent for a moment contemplating what he had just said but then her eyes focused in on where her hand lay on his chest and she couldn’t help but smile and let it slowly slide downwards. Whether there were ghosts or not one thing she was certain of was that Sherlock Holmes was not only there with her but he was deliciously naked underneath the blanket that surrounded them and she was more than happy to concentrate on that for now.

Epilogue

It was almost four weeks later when Molly was making her way up the stairs in Baker St. It was increasingly coming to feel like home and she wondered how much longer she would hold out against Sherlock’s requests for her to just ‘damn well move in’. They’d made it through his first case with surprisingly little disruption and she’d even come back four days ago to find Toby curled up asleep on Sherlock’s bed. She’d accused him of being manipulative and he’d just agreed with her and even though she’d threatened to take her cat straight back home to her flat she hadn’t quite got around to it. Maybe at Christmas she’d give in...she wasn’t quite sure now why she was holding off. She figured it was just the thought that other people would think it too quick. 

She pushed open the flat door wondering what kind of mood Sherlock would be in. It seemed to veer between horny (most often) or engrossed in some kind of case or experiment. Today it seemed was different.

He swung around as she entered and gave her a wide smile. He was wearing dress pants and a shirt with a dark red dress coat and the whole moment reminded her of that day a couple of years back where he’d invited her to solve crimes with him. She smiled to herself as she remembered her own faux pas at thinking it would be an invitation to have dinner.

‘Molly, you’re back. What took you so long?’

She glanced at her watch and frowned. ‘I’m about a minute later than normal Sherlock. What’s up with you?’

He raised an eyebrow. ‘I have a gift for you and let’s just say I hadn’t realised up until this point how much pleasure I would get from getting someone else something.’

Molly brightened and shrugged off her coat feeling quite excited. ‘A gift? You got me a present? What is it?’

She made her way over and he waited until she was right in front of him before he pulled out two tickets from his pocket with a flourish.

‘We’re going dancing! I promised you a date dancing and here it is.’ He passed her the tickets but carried on talking as she looked at them. ‘I’ve booked a table for eight at the savoy for the first Christmas dinner dance of the season. I would have preferred it just be the two of us but they didn’t do tables of two and I don’t want to share with random strangers so I suppose we can invite some of the others.’

Molly looked at the silver writing on the tickets and felt a bubble of sheer joy rise up inside her.

‘Oh Sherlock, it’s perfect. Thank you so much.’

She flung herself against him with her arms wrapped around his neck and she hugged him as hard as she could. He was getting better at hugging now and he brought his arms around her waist and hugged her back.

A moment later and she moved her head from his shoulder and they kissed. It never failed to arouse her, making her stomach flip and her toes curl...even after four weeks of sex and kissing he still made it feel like the first time. 

Before it could develop though she pulled away frowning. ‘Oh God I need to start dress shopping. The ball is only a week away and I have nothing for something this posh.’

He smirked and pressed his lips against hers once more for just a quick kiss. ‘That reminds me...I have another gift for you.’

He took her hand and started to make his way towards their bedroom with Molly following.

‘Another present? Is this the same one as I had the night before last ‘coz I really liked that one?’

He turned his head and gave her a devilish smile and raised his eyebrows a couple of time. ‘No, but if you ask really nicely later...’

She giggled at him being so flirtatious almost forgetting the talk of gifts until they were in his bedroom and that’s when she saw it.

‘Oh Sherlock...’

There hung up on his wardrobe was one of the ball gowns that she’d seen the first evening of their stay at Pondicherry Lodge. It was a rich red colour and covered in intricately sewn on beads, with a pinched in waist and wide skirts.

She turned and looked at him before she made her way over to it, her hands lightly skimming over the material. ‘How?’

He shrugged and leant against the door jam. ‘Janet wanted to pay me for solving the mystery; I didn’t want money from her so I asked her for the dress. I know you loved it...and it seems it was made for you as I barely had to have any alterations made for it to fit you. Most of the work was having it professionally cleaned and some of the beading reattached. You like it then?’

She turned and gave him an almost shy smile. ‘Like it? Sherlock, I love it. I love this whole idea and...and God, I love you so much.’

At that he smiled widely. ‘I love you too, Molly Hooper, more than you’ll ever know. But that dress won’t be beautiful...not until you’re wearing it.’

He held his arms out once more and she happily moved into his embrace. This time when they kissed she pulled him down onto the bed, she had no intention of them leaving this room anytime soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we shall leave them…I simply ran out of time for the ball and maybe some things are best left to the imagination.
> 
> Anyway, let me know if you liked the ending and I promise I’ll be back in a day or so with the first chapter of a short Christmas fic xxx

**Author's Note:**

> Just so you know the line ‘the world is big enough for us. No ghosts need apply’ is actually from canon. I saw it and couldn’t resist including it here...it seemed apt.
> 
> Hope you like the start so far...I kind of see it playing out a bit like a Scooby Doo adventure but without the dog ;). I’ll be back soon xx


End file.
